


Saving Gabe

by fluffy_miracle (orphan_account)



Series: Slave 'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Blow Jobs, Boyfriends, Coffee Shops, College, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual relationship, Fluff, Freedom, Grief, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Loki is Gabriel, M/M, Master/Slave, Miscommunication, Modern slavery, More tags to be added, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, Sabriel - Freeform, Sex, Slave Gabriel, Slave Trade, Slavery, Smut, So much angst, Stanford, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-06-07 15:09:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 49,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6810415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/fluffy_miracle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is in his last year of law school when he purchases a slave (a requirement for one of his classes which is a requirement to graduate). Sam complies because once he's a lawyer he'll be able to help people and be one step closer to finding his missing brother. </p><p>Sam just didn't expect this slave to change his life so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Can't Get No Satisfaction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is from the archives, back when I had a ff.net account. I brushed it up and brought it back after having a very exciting conversation with cucoo4cas. :D
> 
> Let me know what you think!

When legalized slavery had first returned to the United Stares, Sam Winchester had voted for the President that supported the motion. He had read every bit of information he could and had thought he had made the best decision any informed voter could. The new slavery was really for those who had no way to support themselves or no way to pay their debts. It was completely voluntary with set limits for how long the person in slavery would serve. The proposed limit had been seven years, harkening back to the time of indentured servants. That had been the proposal that Sam believed could work.

That had been years ago, before the world had shown Sam just how the best intentions could go sour. Sam Winchester was in his last year of law school at Stanford. He hated the institution of slavery now. He hated it with every part of his being, but that hatred made him tired. Sam had bigger problems that fighting a system he had helped bring back to his country. If Sam had known he would lose his brother to the depravity and corruption of a system that was supposed to help, he would not have voted the way he did.

Sam Winchester looked over his fall semester schedule and sighed, burning his head in his hands. He had been dreading his "Slavery & Law" course since he started. The requirement for taking this class was : Sam had to pass. The catch was that he needed to own a slave for the semester. The point was to research the legal processes of buying and owning a slave, by entering the system themselves. Sam wasn't ready to own another person, not with Dean God knows where serving who knows whom. The fire that had stolen Lisa, Ben, and Colt's lives had covered the tracks of whomever had taken Dean. They had tried to find him: John, Mary, and Sam. Bobby had called all his connections as well, but no one could find Dean anywhere. 

Sam shook his head. He had done all he could to find Dean. It had nearly killed him, not being able to find Dean. It took his parents' support and some good medication and therapy to even consider going back to school. But now Sam had his own apartment, that he used to share with Dean. He had the space for a slave. Sam had enough money, just barely, for a cheap slave. Running a hand through his thick, brown hair, Sam sighed heavily as he pulled his worn wallet out. 

Counting the money he had pulled out of his account yesterday, he headed over to his trusty laptop. It didn't take him long to weed out the seedy from the reputable slave dealers, and then he figured out the affordable ones from the expensive ones before settling on a Mr. Tran's Slave Shoppe that was nearby and had lots of good reviews from Stanford students. Tucking his wallet back in his back pocket, Sam grabbed his bike and headed out.

Mr. Tran was everything Sam expected from a businessman dealing with human wares. Somehow he made Sam feel more at ease and more anxious upon stepping inside. Sam kept glancing around the empty store. He saw no slaves or other customers: it made him even more cautious. He didn't want to get mixed up in something he couldn't get himself out of.

"Hello, young man, how may I help you today?" There was a coldness in Mr. Tran's dark eyes, a calculating look that never left. "Are you one of those Stanford boys looking for some fun?"

"Not exactly." Sam tried to control his facial expression at being compared to those fraternity brothers who frequented an certain kind of slave shop. Sam had read that Mr. Tran dealt with all needs and wants a buyer could have, but he still didn't like being compared to those who only wanted a sex slave for their every disgusting whim.

"Ah, one of those then." Mr. Tran sniffed. "You look like college student."

"I am from Stanford, just not a frat—, I need a slave for a class." Sam tried to stay on track.

"Hmm. Price range?" Sam decided to not give him a number. He didn't want to get cheated out of his money.

"Cheap as possible."

"You won't get a pretty one."

"I'm not looking for pretty. I'm looking for someone who won't drive me crazy."

"Let me show you the discounted slaves first. If you don't like any of them, we'll talk payment plans before I show you the full-price slaves." Mr. Tran had led Sam over to a set of double doors. "I keep all slaves in the basement." Sam eyed the doors nervously. "Don't worry." Mr. Tran chuckled. "You will leave a free man, Mr., uh?"

"My name is Sam." Sam didn't want to give him any information unless it was for the purchasing of a slave.

"Right this way, Sam." The doors were pulled open. "After you. I have to make sure the doors are locked behind us." Sam gulped, stepping down into the cool basement. The atmosphere changed with each step he took down until his boots were resting on the smooth, concrete floor. It was like he had stepped into a completely different world. Red uplighting illuminated the concrete walls while soft classical music played in the background. 

Sam's eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. It was then he saw them, the shadows, the slaves fastened in various positions around the room. Sam looked away quickly once he realized all the slaves were naked. "I have nothing to hide." Mr. Tran smiled. "Clothes hide injuries. If one if my slaves has an injury, it's because they deserved it. I run a strict store and I have expectations." Sam nodded, a little too intimidated by all the nakedness to look back up.

"So any slave in particular that'll fit in with my life?" Sam looked up to meet Mr. Tran's smirk.

"Oh, yes." He stepped over, slipping past a few slaves. The side of his suit jacket brushed up against a leg, causing the owner of the shop to stop. "Oh, yes. Over here, Sam. This one will do nicely."

"Okay." Sam looked over the slave, taking care to not look below the man's waist. The slave Mr. Tran had led him over was shorter than Sam by about a head. He had a sloping nose, thin lips, and eyes that looked everywhere but Sam and Mr. Tran. "What's so great about him?"

"Well, he's tiny compared to you. If you need to smack it through his head who's in control, you'll be able to do it without a problem."

"Is he defiant?" Sam hated asking that question. He couldn't buy a defiant slave, but he wouldn't buy a shell of a human either. If Dean was still alive, he'd still be fighting. Sam knew it. Dean had to be alive. Dean had to still be fighting.

"No, no. He's just a little tricky sometimes when it comes to new masters. He likes to know who's in charge." Sam did not ask what that meant. He didn't want to know. "Look at him! He's cute and compact. Just the right size no matter what you're into." Sam looked up to see Mr. Tran had the slave's limp dick in his hand. "Just right for you." Mr. Tran nodded. Sam's hand flew up to block that sight.

"Stop it!" He covered his eyes with his hand. "Let him go, just stop."

"He's a slave." Mr. Tran laughed, letting the slave go. "It's what he's for." There was a muffled cough from the slave, a poorly disguised laugh. Sam looked up, making eye contact with a clearly amused slave. Sam was surprised, pleasantly surprised.

"How much?" Sam wanted him. This slave was perfect, but not for the reasons Mr. Tran thought. This slave was still alive.

"I thought you would want someone easy." Mr. Tran had sobered up. His scrutinizing gaze up at Sam made Sam feel like he was a kid having been caught with a stolen candy bar.

"He sounds easy enough. Push him if he gets out of hand. Remind him who is boss. How much?"

"Two fifty. Special discount for my favorite college." The scrutinizing look was there still, but Mr. Tran gave Sam a pilot, fake smile.

"Thanks." Sam reached for his wallet.

"Not here." Mr. Tran put a hand on Sam's arm. "It's not proper. You pay upstairs while my men prepare him for transport. Do you have a car?"

"I have a bus pass." Sam shrugged. "Let's head upstairs." 

Twenty minutes later, Sam stood at a bus stop with a panting, shorter man in his firm grasp. The slave was quicker than his handlers had anticipated, bolting as soon as they dragged him upstairs. The slave had sprinted towards the door, but Sam had been quicker, grabbing him before he could escape. The handlers raised their small clubs, but Sam shook his head. He had paid for the slave. He had the paperwork; the slave was his concern now. They had left a few minutes later, after Sam and Mr. Tran shook hands. Sam was kind of impressed the slave had made it that far with his hands zip-tied behind his back. His slave was clever.

The bus driver didn't seem fazed by the slave being marched onto the bus. Thankfully, it was only fifty cents more for slaves to ride on the bus. Sam found them seats near the back, sticking his new slave in between himself and the window. He didn't know what to say. How does one start a conversation with a person they now own? He didn't even know the guy's name— just the id number typed up on his paperwork and the name his last owner had used: Loki. Fitting. At least, the slave fell asleep against the window about ten minutes later. Sam couldn't stop his leg from jiggling until they made it to his stop.

"Wake up." Sam whispered, nudging his new companion with his shoulder. The slave jerked awake, tucking his legs up as he scrunched against the window. Eyes searched for an escape until Sam touched the slave on his thin shoulder. The baggy t-shirt hung off the slave, reminding Sam that his slave was going to need to eat. Fuck. He owned another human being. Sam sucked in a sharp breath, willing himself to get himself and his slave inside before he had an anxiety attack. "You're okay." Sam grabbed the slave's arm. "Come on. We gotta go. It's our stop." The slave gave him the slightest glare, but they were already moving. The slave tripping over his own bare feet as Sam dragged him out the nearest exit. Then it getting the bike off the bike rack, and maneuvering the bicycle and the slave into the building.

"Elevator's broken." One of the other tenants informed Sam as he stood there, pressing the button. "Called the super like twenty times, no answer." Sam really couldn't breathe now, pushing the slave towards the stairwell. It was only a few flights of stairs, but Sam's breathing was shallow as they made it to the apartment door. Sam slid the key into the lock and staggered forward, catching himself on the door. Golden eyes scrutinized the unturned knob and the stricken master before grabbing the knob and twisting. Sam stumbled inside, pulling the bike and slave down with him as he fell. 

The slave stayed very still as Sam lay on top of him, the bike haphazardly strewn over Sam's ass. Sam couldn't move for agonizing minutes, trying to drag his breathing back into a somewhat regular rhythm. It took longer for him to realize the floor was softer than usual and that he had suffered through his entire anxiety attack with the door open and his slave pinned underneath him. The bike clattered to the floor as Sam gave it a shove.

"Shit." Sam wiped his face, getting to his feet, closing and locking the door. The slave had sat up, peering around the place like he expected something monstrous to leap out at him. "You all right?" Sam extended his hand down to the slave. Well, that was pointless with the slave's hands still behind his back. He grabbed a pair of scissors from a drawer in the kitchen, coming back to release his slave from his binds. Sam's slave stood up, rubbing the thin, pink lines on his wrists. Sam caught sight of puffy, burnt skin on the inside of the slave's wrist, but the smaller man twisted it away when he saw where Sam was looking. 

Now that they were home and Sam was calmer, he could see his slave a little better. Wild hair that looked knotted and dirty hung down to the slave's shoulder blades. The shorter man was almost gaunt but still wiry. He still had some muscles despite malnutrition. Sam considered calling his mother, a nurse, to give his slave a check-over, but he abandoned that idea the next minute. He didn't want his parents to start thinking it was okay to talk to him or to visit his apartment. "Wanna eat?" Sam asked, oblivious that his last question hadn't been answered. "I could eat. Come on." The taller of the two headed towards the kitchen, dumping the scissors back in the drawer and and looking through his bare cupboards before finding a box of macaroni and cheese. 

The slave trailed behind after giving the door one last, longing look. He stood by Sam, but not too close, watching as his master got out the pan and the milk. The stove flickered to life as Sam dumped in all the ingredients, stirring as time went. The slave was leaning against the counter, holding himself up, still studying. "You got a name? I'm Sam." Sam realized he hasn't even introduced himself. How rude. "I only bought you because I have a class. You don't have to do anything."

"That's rich." The slave huffed out a laugh, sliding closer. "Listen, sweetheart, I've been doing this a lot longer than you, so let's cut the bullshit. I'm not playing whatever game you're playing." The slave had Sam's belt unbuckled and his jeans unzipped before Sam could get out a word. Sam's instincts kicked in before his mind could and he shoved the slave so hard that the shorter man flew back into the fridge. The kitchen appliance shook slightly as the slave dropped to the floor.

"Don't touch me." Sam managed, fixing his pants and turning back to the Mac n cheese. "Go sit on the couch and just don't ever fucking do that again."

"Interesting." The slave remarked, giving Sam a wide berth as he picked himself off the floor and limped over to the couch. He sat down like he had been told to, but he sat so he could still keep one eye on Sam.

Sam stared into the golden pasta, mind racing. What the hell had he gotten himself into?


	2. What the Hell Am I Doing Here?

Dinner had been tense. Sam sat down on the couch next to his slave with two bowls of macaroni and cheese. He handed a bowl over to his slave. 

"Eat up." Sam clicked the tv on, putting on a movie. He stared at the screen as he ate his way through his bowl. He ignored how his slave watched him. He didn't want to make eye-contact, didn't want to start up the conversation that ended on the floor by the fridge. Silence stretched out between them, neither willing to speak up.

By the time the movie was halfway done, Sam was ready for bed. His head hadn't stopped pounding since his anxiety attack. He had help. It was in the bathroom, behind the mirror, in an orange pill container. Sam hated taking those pills. He hated needing help to function typically. Getting up and switching off the tv, he ignored how his slave stiffened. Sam rummaged in the drawer in the bathroom, pulling out some sheets and blankets. The couch was a pull-out. Sam would know. He spent a few years on it. Sam shook his head, banishing memories of his brother. He had a complete stranger in the other room to deal with.

A complete stranger who was on his hands and knees in the middle of the living room, stark naked. "What the fuck?!" Sam didn't mean to sound so exasperated, but he was under the impression that slaves did what they were told. Sam had not told this slave to strip or to get in any sexual position. "Get up. Get up!" Sam felt like a child, covering his eyes with his hand. "Get your pants on too. Fuck!" 

The slave's eyebrows rose, but he scrambled to get off the floor. He stood there, wringing his hands as Sam sank down on the couch. Sam put his head in his hands and struggled to regulate his breathing. It wasn't the slave's fault, Sam was overwhelmed. He had been overwhelmed for years! 

"Easy there, kiddo." The slave came over, dropping to his knees. He pulled Sam's belt undone quickly and grinned when he realized Sam wasn't wearing any underwear. Unzipping Sam's pants, he crawled forward to take Sam in his mouth. Sam tensed, about to shove the slave away, when he realized he was responding to the slave's ministrations. 

Sam couldn't remember the last time he had a hard-on. He certainly had never had his dick sliding in and out of another man's mouth before, but he wasn't that concerned with gender at the moment. His slave was unfortunately really good at this, and Sam struggled for a moment before pushing him off. 

"I didn't ask—you don't need to do this." Sam didn't want his slave to feel obligated, but an indulgent side of himself didn't want the blow job to stop. Sam could be honest with himself. He hadn't been aroused in a long time, and this slave could do stuff that Jess never could no matter how hard she enthusiastically tried. Jess. Sam felt a stab of guilt wrench his guilt and soften the currently most eager member of his body. His headache loomed over him, assaulting his already traumatized nerves.

"I know." The slave smirked. "Want me to keep going?" He had already assumed his position back on his knees, his eyes dropping on Sam's large dick. Sam watched his pink tongue dart out and wet his lips. The resurgence of arousal was confusing. Sam didn't do casual, but Sam hadn't been with anyone since Jess. "You're under no moral obligation to refuse, Sam, was it?" Sam didn't trust his voice, so he nodded instead. "Why don't you let me do what I do best?" There was that wicked smirk again. "And then you can figure out if you wanna fuck me to oblivion on the couch, the floor, or the bed?" 

"Don't want to." Sam shook his head, tensing up. He wasn't going to screw this guy the first night he bought him. Sam wasn't one of those guys. He didn't do stuff like this. Realizing that his dick was still hanging out, Sam started to tuck himself back in. He wasn't expecting his slave to place his hand over Sam's and frown.

"Let me finish." This guy was bossy for a little guy. Sam didn't know what to think. He just assumed that all slaves were sad and desperate for freedom, but this slave was defying how Sam thought slaves acted. The slave was asking, no, he was telling Sam to let him finish the blow job and Sam's traitorous dick was completely on board with that idea.

"You don't—."

"Have to, yea, I got that." The slave batted Sam's hands away and pulled Sam's dick back out. "Please?" God, the cheek. Sam didn't have the strength to argue. It had not even been two hours before his slave had worn him down. The smile that twisted on to the slave's face wasn't joy though. Sam wasn't sure what it was. The wry smile was gone as the slave resumed sucking Sam down, taking him in his throat for a very long minute before sliding up enough to slip his tongue across Sam's slit. Hollowing his cheeks, the slave took Sam down again. Sam knew it had been a while, but he didn't think it had been long enough for him to come like a teenager, without warning. His slave didn't even choke.

"Fudge." Sam fell back against the sofa, his brain an incoherent mess.

"You weren't a virgin, were you?" The slave asked in an almost grumpy tone. There was no sign of Sam on his lips or face. Sam hated that he was looking for it. "I'll drip some next time." The slave's tone was dry. "You're not as high and mighty as you thought." It wasn't a question. It was a smug fact. The slave had taken Sam's words and shoved them back on him. That smile hadn't been a happy smile, it had been that bitterly victorious smile that the slave knew what Sam wanted more than Sam could admit to himself.

"Not a virgin." Sam shook his head. "Not high and mighty anymore." He was getting drowsy. He could feel it in the way his eyelids were suddenly heavy and his words were slipping and sliding together. The slave pressed his lips together tightly, not moving from his knees until Sam was sound asleep. Getting up, he pulled his clothes on and headed towards the front door.

Sam woke up at the sound of his door slamming shut. That was it. There went $250 dollars right out the front door. Sam grimaced as he stretched. His neck was sore; his head was tender. Sam hated his meds, but he could acknowledge he needed them right now. He couldn't afford to have another anxiety attack. He needed to finish school before he finished falling apart.

Sam made his way to the bathroom, shoving himself back in his pants as he shuffled across the faded mint carpet. Dean always said it was an ugly color; today Sam could agree. It was hideous, like a unicorn had vomited leprechauns all over the apartment. He swung the door open, reaching into the cabinet for his pulls, and then freezing at the realization that someone else was in the bathroom.

His slave stared up at him in fear from where he sat in the bathtub. Water sloshed as the slave started to move and then jerked to a stop. Sam could see the wheels in his head turning as his eyes darted around the room, scanning, planning.

"I thought you ran away." Sam's brow furrowed in confusion. The slave had his opportunity; he had checked it out. Why didn't he take it? Speaking of taking, Sam rattled a pill out and swallowed it dry.

"No." The slave hunched over, protecting himself. "I didn't."

"Obviously." Sam snorted. "You're fast if you could get from the door to in here that quickly."

"Occupational necessity." It was a monotone voice, but that mask of a smirk was back. The only thing that gave the slave away was his incessantly glancing around for ways to escape. Sam had forgotten what that felt like. He had forgotten about that part of his life, tucked away safely along with his memories of Jess and Dean: things too painful to remember.

"You're safe." Sam said as he eased his way down to sitting on the floor. "Wash away." Sam pulled out his phone and contemplated googling how-to's for slave owning. This was harder than he had thought it would be, but it was kind of nice having someone around again, someone who wasn't getting on his case all the time. Sam was lonely: his anxiety and those tragedies had made it very hard for him to make new friends. Why get attached when they'd just be taken away?

It took Sam staring at his screen for five minutes, he had been staring at the clock for the whole time, before the slave started to resume washing up.

"Why a bath instead of running?" Sam asked. "You had a clear shot."

"Didn't know when I'd get another chance to clean." The slave shrugged. "Didn't think you'd bounce back so quickly."

"Hey, what's your name?" Sam tried again. The slave's back stiffened and he cowed his head, focusing on cleaning a deep cut on his leg. "Paperwork said your last master called you 'Loki.'

"Is there a question in there?" So much lip for a man who had spent a few years in slavery. Sam wondered if 'Loki' was still unbroken because he was still new.

"Is that your real name?"

"Do I look like a Norse mythology professor with a cock warming kink?!" A snap, a barely disguised something— that little spark that Sam had bought him for flared up. "What's with you, fucker? You get off on playing nice?"

"Im sorry." Sam's back straightened. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"You threw me against a fridge for trying to do my job!" Sam couldn't stop watching as the slave scrubbed his skin a bright pink. "And then two hours later, you're blowing your load down my throat!" The slave didn't seem angry at Sam, just angry. He slid back to dip his dirty hair under the water. Sam made a mental note to cut the snarls out, maybe cut a few inches off. 

"My brother is a slave." Sam confessed once his slave resurfaced.

"You sell him or something?"

"No! Never! I loved, love my brother— he was stolen and sold..." It was much harder admitting what the police had told them out loud. Sam thought maybe they were all still in denial, himself included. Dean had been the victim of trafficking, but at least there was hope he was alive. Sam looked up from the hole in his jeans to see the slave looking at him. There was a softness there in those golden brown eyes.

"You're not going to save me, kiddo. I've been doing this song and dance since before you graduated high school. Now you gonna let me use a towel or do I get to air dry while being bent over like a towel?"


	3. Going Nowhere, Going Nowhere

The short version was that Sam gave his slave a towel. The slave didn't complain, taking his sweet time in drying himself. Sam realized as he watched, he felt a tad like a creeper, that the places his slave was gentle was because there were light bruises.

"What happened?" Sam asked before he could stop himself. Sam felt rude being so curious about another person's misfortune. Ever since Dean vanished, Sam avoided anything to do with slavery. Now that he had a slave on his own though, he wanted to know more.

"Oh those?" The slave turned, exposing his back to Sam's view. Sure, the slave had presented but Sam had not looked long enough to see years of abuse and punishments littered over the slave's body. "The bruises are from my last master." He shrugged, catching himself as he dragged the towel over a whip welt on his back. "The welts are from Mr. Tran."

"He doesn't seem like the type to beat someone up."

"Good thing I'm a slave then and not a someone." The slave lifted his thin shoulders upwards. "He's a piece of work though. I wouldn't piss him off too much."

"Why?" Sam leaned forward, too entranced to notice the towel had been dropped on to the floor. The slave began mopping up the floor, wet hair hanging over his face.

"Rumor has it he sold his own son. It's true, by the way, you can ask your dear professor on Monday."

"Professor Crowley?"

"Yup. He bought Mr. Tran's son."

"He's a slave dealer though. Why would he buy from Mr. Tran if he has his own to pick from?"

"You're fucking curious." The slave peered over at him. "You don't get out much, do you, kiddo?" Sam blushed a little before shaking his head.

"Work and school, that's it."

"Must be nice." That damn smirk popped back up. Sam realized almost too late he was being teased. He bit back the apology on his lips and pushed the slave's arm lightly. Sam stood up and realized his slave needed new clothes.

"I—I'll get you a shirt and sweatpants." He stammered, averting his gaze. Sam zoomed out of the bathroom, leaving his slave blinking in surprise. 

Sam sucked in a breath as he leaned against the wall. He and his slave— they weren't friends. They didn't know each other. The only thing that had brought them together was money: a transaction. Nothing but a business deal between Sam and Mr. Tran, who apparently was a monster, had brought Sam his slave. And here Sam was getting attached. No wonder. Sam was a lonely person, he knew that, he acknowledged it. He was concerned about getting attached to someone he was just going to sell back once the semester was over. He couldn't keep him.

"You okay in there?" A rap came out at the door before his slave peeked his head in. "You're not looking so hot."

"I can't keep you." Sam blurted, hanging his head. "I just need that out between us. This is just for the semester." The slave's startled look was wiped away by something dark.

"That's longer than my last six masters kept me." He shrugged. "Combined."

"Why?" Okay, Sam was attached. Two and a half hours and he was worrying over this slave like he was somebody to Sam. He really needed to go out more, make some friends.

"I'm a handful." The slave turned just right so Sam got a full view of his rounded ass. "In more ways than one." He waggled his eyebrows at Sam, surprising a laugh out of his master. Sam was startled by his own bark of laughter as he headed to the drawer.

"Here." Sam tossed him a t-shirt and boxers. "Get those boxers on and go sit on the couch. I'll stitch you up before you put your shirt on."

"Are you getting your degree in pre-med?" The slave wrinkled up his nose. Sam laughed again only to be hit with a sudden and excruciating realization that the slave he had bought reminded him of Dean. 

Sam was going to be sick. He tripped over his long legs as he made a dash for the toilet. He braced himself, curling around the toilet, throwing up the supper he had eaten. Five heaves later, Sam was a shivering, sniveling mess. He couldn't stop crying and he couldn't stop shaking. His slave had sat down near him, watching him with round eyes. "You, uh, need anything? Water? I'll, um, get you water." Sam sniffled, wiping his nose on his arm as he willed himself to pull back together. A glass of water was thrust in his face which he took with a soft 'thank-you.'

Time stretched out as Sam slowly pieced himself back together. He needed to get up, stitch his slave up, and go to bed. He had work in the morning. He was the opener tomorrow at the close by Starbucks. He needed to be less of a wreck in about nine hours. Sam couldn't afford to lose his job. This apartment had been way cheaper when he had been splitting the rent with Dean. Even with his scholarships, Sam was barely getting by since he cut his parents out of his life. He couldn't handle them talk about Dean as if they gave as much as a shit about Dean as Sam did. Fumbling as he got up, Sam brushed his teeth and then retrieved the first aid kit from under the sink. His slave was dubious about the needle and dental floss, but Sam knew what he was doing. Dean had taught him well.

Sam made up the couch while his slave slipped inside the gigantic t-shirt that hung off his frame like a dress. 

"I'll grab you some stuff from the store on my way home tomorrow." Sam informed the slave. "I won't make you keep wearing my stuff. Um, I can't make you stay here, I know that, but please don't run away. It's not a good part of town and I don't want anything to happen to you." There was a little scoff, but there was also a scrutinizing look to see if Sam was telling the truth. "Bad things happen to slaves that get lose. The last one to go missing was found in a dumpster in pieces." 

"Show me." The slave's chin jutted out. Sam thought that was fair. After all, he had been spending all his college career learning how to prove things to people. Pulling out his phone, he pulled out the story. "You want me to read it?" Sam didn't know where his slave was when it came to literacy. Sam didn't want to offend him.

"I can read it." The slave sighed, holding out his hand for the phone. Sam handed it over and waited as the slave slowly scrolled down, taking in every gruesome detail. "I guess I'm staying another day." One corner of his mouth lifted and quickly went back down. It had only been a few hours together, but Sam had never seen his slave give a genuine smile. He didn't expect him to. It was just for someone always smirking and giving little jabs... None of it was real. It was just an act.

"Well, I'm glad we have another day." Sam snorted. "I'm going to bed." He headed to the bathroom to piss first. "Hey, you need to pee?" Sam stuck his head out the door as he washed his hands. The slave's head reared up in surprise and he nodded, rushing to the door. Sam was going to laugh, but then he figured out the slave was used to depending on masters to let him relieve himself. "You can use this bathroom whenever you want." Sam said, making sure to catch his slave's eye contact. Who knew how long he had been waiting? He hadn't used the bathroom since arriving at Sam's and he had been fastened to some poles at Mr. Tran's. "No holding your pee or whatever in."

"T-thanks." The slave's voice shook as he stepped up to the toilet, already shoving his pants down. Sam wasn't sure if he would ever get used to how easily his slave displayed his body. Sam supposed his slave had no choice in the matter, but it still bothered Sam.

"No problem." Sam replied as calmly as he could. "Same goes for food and water when I'm not home. Help yourself. I don't have much, but it's for you too. I'll pick up some more food on the way home too." Sam added to his mental list of things to do. His slave was still peeing, something that more that concerned Sam. "When did you pee last?"

"Yesterday." The slave shrugged. "Back in the holding pen. Mr. Tran gave us buckets."

"When did you eat last?" Sam asked. The slave had finished, was pulling up his pants. Sam nodded towards the sink and the slave lathered up his hands with soap.

"Before here? Um, a couple days." The slave's tone dropped down as he picked up on Sam's strong emotion. Sam was struggling to compose himself. He didn't want to freak his slave, companion? out. The guy was talking more; Sam didn't want him to stop. The slave turned on the water and rubbed his hands together, watching the soapy bubbles drain.

"Have you had water recently?" 

"Tonight." Another smirk. Sam rolled his eyes. "They pumped me full last night."

"What?!"

"I pissed the Tran off."

"Why?"

"It's fun." A shrug as the slave dried his hands. "It passes the time. It's boring at the shop."

"You don't like being bored?"

"Who does?"

"You have a point." Sam acknowledged. They headed into the living room and Sam grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen. He stuck it on the coffee table. "That's yours. Refill it from the fridge when you drink that all."

"Tonight?" 

"No. Just when you're thirsty."

"You're weird."

"Yea." Sam sighed. "Goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow night. Don't bother getting up when I do. It's an ungodly hour." Sam walked towards his room. He couldn't wait to sleep. Sam was exhausted. He flicked the lights off; the darkness hiding how his slave jumped. 

"Night." Sam shut his door and collapsed on his bed. He barely remembered to shove his jeans off and pull up the covers before he fell asleep.

Back in the living room, the slave settled on the couch. He pressed his tender back against the arm of the chair, hissing slightly at the flicker of pain. He leaned his head back, letting his senses adjust to the dark. He would see Sam in the morning. He never had gotten the knack of sleeping on the first night in a new house with a new master. Too much had always been expected of him.


	4. We're Stressed Out

Sam was startled to see two eyes looking back at him when he checked on the slave in the morning.

"H-hey." Sam's voice was still thick with sleep. His head still felt fragile, but in better shape than the night before. "You sleep at all?" His slave looked like shit, dark circles under his tired eyes. Slowly, the slave shook his head before leaning back against the arm of the couch. His legs were curled up to his chest, his hands folded in his lap. "Shit, you gotta sleep."

"Can't." The slave mumbled. "Can't sleep the first night."

"The first night? Oh." Sam scratched his head, his long hair shifting under his long fingers. "I'm sorry. I didn't wish to make you uncomfortable. You could have slept... I wouldn't have disturbed you." Sam could feel himself blushing. The 'I wouldn't have woken you up to fuck you' was left unsaid, but the slave nodded.

"Habit, kiddo. Don't beat yourself up." Sam grunted some intelligible in response as he started the battered coffee maker.

"You want a cup?"

"Of coffee?" The slave's eyes widened. He couldn't remember the last time he had coffee. "Sure!" Sam smiled at his enthusiasm. When the pot of coffee was ready, he poured two cups, handing one over. He couldn't help watching as the slave took a large gulp only to make a face.

"Too hot?" Sam sat down on the opposite end of the couch, his side to his slave who shifted further against the arm of the couch.

"No." The slave took another sip, a much smaller sip, with a dejected look on his face. "Thanks." He lifted the mug slightly before returning it to his lap. Apparently he wasn't going to tell Sam what was wrong with the coffee. Sam took a sip of his own, sighing with content as the coffee tasted just the way he liked it: strong and black. Oh. Sam got up and grabbed a small container of sugar from the cupboard. Sam liked his coffee black, but not very many of his old friends enjoyed the taste.

"This should help." Sam placed the container and a spoon on the coffee table. "I forget that not everyone likes their coffee black." The slave didn't move; his expression shocked. "Go ahead." Sam's slave still looked dumbfounded, but he scooted forwards and put two heaping spoonfuls of sugar into his cup. His body shivered as he took another sip, his eyes lighting up as he gulped more of the coffee down. He hesitated before putting one more heaping spoonful in his cup, swirling the dark liquid around. He took another sip and sighed, snotting back to his original pose. "Three tablespoons?" Sam laughed. "I'll remember that next time. Do you like creamer? I can pick some up tonight while I'm at the store." There was that look that told Sam his slave still thought he was weird. "Well?"

"If you want." 

"I don't like creamer." Sam smiled, trying to push down his own unease. "When's the last time you've had coffee?" 

"Before." A thin shoulder was pushed into the air. Eyes were focused on the steaming liquid in his mug. 

"Before?" Sam wasn't following, so he bumbled ahead to figure out what was wrong.

"Before before, when I wasn't..." The slave trailed off, gripping the coffee mug with his thighs as he lifted his hands up, wrists pressed together.

"Before you were a slave." Sam filled in the blank, feeling like an asshole. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I'll get the creamer and more sugar. What about brownies? You want some brownies. I'm thinking you have a sweet tooth."

"You're rambling." The slave's smirk was softer as he looked over at Sam. "You're sweet, kiddo." Now it was Sam's turn to stare into his coffee, cheeks pink. No one said much about him anymore that didn't involve him being a hermit or a freak. His eyes were a little teary as he brought his mug to his lips.

"I gotta go." He caught the time From his watch. "I'll be back this afternoon. If there's an emergency, I work two blocks that way." Sam pointed to the right. "It's a Starbucks, you can't miss it. Just run fast and don't talk to anyone." He looked over to make sure his slave was understood. His slave nodded studying him carefully. Sam never felt more on display in his life.

"Being different ain't bad, kiddo." The slave sipped at his coffee. "Sometimes it's the one thing that helps you survive." So his slave waxed philosophical in the early morning. Sam would love to hear more, but he couldn't afford to be late. Pam might like him, but Sam needed to still be on time. 

"See ya." Sam grabbed his bike and unlocked the door, swinging it open. "Lock the door behind me, okay? All the locks."

"Yessir." His slave gave him a mock salute. "No one in or out." He mimicked a stern, soldier voice. Sam gave him a grateful smile before waving, shutting the door between them. He paused outside the door until he heard the locks start to click shut. His slave could listen: how nice. 

Work was work. Busy. It kept Sam's mind of things. It was odd to notice that even with all his breakdowns yesterday, Sam's mind wasn't so troubled today. He felt so at peace that even Pam noticed.

"Glad to see you smiling a little today, Sam." She pulled him into her office. "How is everything?"

"Better." Sam couldn't tell her about his slave. She had known Dean. She'd think he was a terrible person for supporting the system that stole his brother away. She'd tell his parents. And there it was, a migraine threatening to ruin the good day he was having. "I gotta run, Pam. I need to do my grocery shopping before the week starts." The semester officially started on Monday, bright and early with 'Slavery and Law.' 

"Good luck with your last year, Sam. You've already made us proud." Pamela smiled at him. If she picked up his mood swing, she didn't bring it up.

"Thanks, Pam." Sam gave her a hug, ignoring her wandering hands as she squeezed his ass. How Pamela never got a sexual harassment report was beyond Sam, he just didn't think enough of it to report it himself. Sam grabbed his keys and phone from his locker. Time to go shopping. He was starting to wish he had grabbed his pills this morning. Sam really had an issue with needing his pills, even though he could admit that they helped. It was okay though; Sam would be fine.

Hah. 

"Where are the groceries?" His slave asked when he greeted him at the door. 

"Couldn't do it." Sam growled, pushing in. He placed his bike against the wall, opened his backpack, and shoved a bag of McDonald's into his slave's hands. "The salad's mine." Sam stalked to the bathroom, stripping out of the black polo that reeked of coffee. He shut the bathroom door and stripped out of the rest of his clothes, ignoring the pills, ignoring his life. The slave peeked in the bag; if the salad was Sam's then his master had bought him a whole meal. The slave shuddered even though his stomach was growling. There had to be a catch: it was too much and he hadn't done enough. The slave put the food down on the table and followed his master's footsteps.

"Sam?" He rapped on the door, chewing on his bottom lip. There was no answer. The slave hesitated before trying the knob. If the door wasn't locked, well, that was practically an order. He slipped inside the steamy room and stepped out of his own clothes, leaving them in a pile next to Sam's. The slave climbed into the shower, almost relieved that Sam was currently facing the spray. He slipped down to his knees and waited. 

Sam turned to rinse his hair and just about had a heart attack when he saw his slave kneeling behind him, eyes downcast. 

"What are you doing in here?!" Sam's hands had dropped from his hair to cover what hung between his legs. "Did you finish eating already?" The slave shook his head. "Why not?"

"Wanted to give you something first."

"You don't have to give me anything. You should eat." Sam reached down to pull his slave up. "There's nothing you need to do from down there. You need to eat."

"I ate yesterday." The slave finally looked up. "Besides, you like the idea." The slavw reached over and let his fingers trail down Sam's strong leg, chasing drops of water down with his fingertips. Sam shivered. He did like it. There was no hiding that anymore. 

"You're eating every day, at least while you're with me." Sam said firmly, cupping his slave's face. "And you don't owe me anything. Now stand up, let me check your back since you're determined to get those stitches wet." The slave let himself be pulled up. He pushed up against Sam, reaching down to stroke Sam's cock. "That's not what I said." Sam bit back his groan. 

"I'm not a good listener." The slave gave him that tight, smug smile and Sam let himself go. He pulled the slave up, pushing him against the shower wall. The slave gripped Sam a bit more firmly. Sam shuddered, ducking his head down against his slave's shoulder. Water tricked down Sam's back and the slave's shoulders as the slave worked Sam closer to completion.

"You want me to—." Sam let the offer hang between them for a second as he tried to sort his thoughts. "I can return the favor." Sam could feel the blush on his cheeks despite the warm water. The slave looked up with an impish smile, shaking his head. He kept going, keep twisting, stroking until Sam came all over his hand. "You ever going to tell me your name?" Sam panted out. 

"Are you giving me a command?" The slave squeezed Sam's sensitive, softening dick, earning a yelp from his master. 

"No, I just wanna know."

"Need help naming me?"

"I'd rather just let you use your own name." The slave shook his head.

"Guess you're a shit out of luck." He rinsed his hand off under the shower spray. 

"And if I order you?" Sam asked. "Would you tell me then?"

"No."

"All righty then." Sam sighed. "Wanna eat?" The slave looked surprised that Sam wasn't pushing the issue, was still giving him food. "Maybe we can go shopping after? We have class tomorrow. You don't even have a collar or a bracelet. I haven't even filed all the paperwork and it's got to be done by tomorrow. And my head, ah, my fucking head..." Sam trailed off. He turned, twisting the shower off. He turned back around to being pulled down. The slave tugged Sam into a soft kiss. Sam resisted for a split second, but the slave deepened the kiss, flicking a pill into Sam's mouth. He pulled back and made sure that Sam swallowed the pill before giving his master another quick kiss. 

"Good boy."

"I'm supposed to take those with water."

"You didn't last night." The slave quipped back. "Take them like you're supposed to. Every morning."

"You checking up on me?" Sam asked as he toweled off, tossing a clean towel at his slave. 

"No." The slave stuck his tongue out. "Just don't want you to drop dead on me."

"I'm not gonna." Sam assured him. "I just need to destress."

"Oh, I know." The slave snorted. "I know."


	5. Fire All Of Your Guns

It became very clear over the next few weeks that Sam was not the one wearing the pants, but the truth was that Sam was glad to let his slave take control over certain things. It reminded Sam of the way things had been with Dean... Sam really needed to stop comparing his slave to Dean, especially with the whole blow job/hand job dynamic that cropped up occasionally. He had never done stuff like that with Dean or any other guy for that matter.

But after one of Sam's classmates fucked his slave in front of the whole class, Sam stopped letting his slave touch him. It frustrated his slave, although Sam couldn't understand why.

"It's what I'm good for!" The slave snapped one evening after another brutal class. It had been Sam's turn to show off his slave. Slave exam, part one: it was the first exam of the class and counted for 25% of Sam's grade. Neither of them were ready. Sam stammered and the slave tried to obey, but he really wasn't good at listening. 

"Well, maybe if you worked on your listening, you wouldn't need to be so good at sucking dick!"

"You think I asked for this?!"

"I didn't ask for this either." Sam protested back. He had never seen his slave like this. Now his slave had never been docile, but he had taken care of Sam when Sam was unable to take care of himself. But now, the slave was a vision of wrath and torment. He vacillated between furious and intimidated as if he expected Sam to beat him at any minute. Fear and frustration raged in those golden eyes and Sam forgot to be angry in return. "I'm sorry, okay? I just—that slave was just a shell... I can't let that happen to you." 

"It's too late for that." The slave let out a bitter laugh. "I'm old for a slave. We all know it's just a matter of time before I'm put down." He turned away from Sam, but Sam had grabbed him by the wrist.

"We're not done." Sam unfurled his fingers to reveal the puffy brand of 'SW' on the inside of his slave's wrist. "When you were you going to tell me about this?"

"When you returned me." The slave pulled his arm free, folding them across his chest. Sam hated how he shrank back. He hated all this: slavery, branding, putting unwanted slaves down.

"But branded slaves are put down once they are returned."

"Don't let that bother you at the end of the semester, kiddo. Tran sold me to you for a reason. He's sick of my tricks and frankly,—." The slave trailed off, shaking his head. Sam had heard enough, fear gripping at him that he might lose the closest thing he had to a friend too.

"You can't give up!" 

"You don't get it. You don't know what it's like. You've never been owned. You've never been at the complete mercy of a complete stranger who only wants you for your holes."

"And yet, you're wondering why I won't let you give me sexual favors." Sam grumbled. "Hearing stuff like that doesn't change my mind."

"Sam, it's all I know. It's what I was trained to do. I don't love it, but it's something to do. It's something I'm good at. It's my purpose." The pleading in the slave's voice bothered Sam. His slave just wanted to please him or something, Sam wasn't even sure why anymore. 

"Are you clean?"

"You've seen my paperwork. Anything I got was curable and I was cured." The slave had crept a little closer, a twisted hope in his eyes that Sam might be relenting.

"If I let you do this," Sam sighed, turning his eyes heavenward. He couldn't believe he was considering this. "You gotta tell me your name first."

"That desperate to have something to scream, kiddo?" The slave drawled, setting his jaw. The hope in his eyes had died. He looked bitter and angry again before he swallowed hard. "It's Gabriel, okay? They used to call me Gabriel." An emotion crossed his slave's, Gabriel's face that Sam hadn't seen before: sadness.

"It's nice to meet you, Gabriel."

"Whatever. Just don't call me that. It's not my name anymore, not really. Just a memory." And that was that. 

It was a rough couple days after that. Sam avoided calling Gabriel by his name, but he did call him Gabe. For whatever reason, that nickname didn't irritate his slave as much as his real name, so Gabe it was. Gabe gave Sam some of his trickiness, but they navigated through.'Sam found that staying consistent was the best way to deal with Gabriel.

"Samuel, why did you choose your slave?" It was part two of the slave exam: another 25% of Sam's grade on the line. Sam was convinced Professor Crowley had a special place in hell for the things he put the new masters and their slaves through. Sam was so glad that he checked off the no box for sexual displays in class. Gabriel took the lead on anything they did; Sam just went along for the ride and told him when to slow down or stop. Sam wasn't going to tell his prof that though.

"He was on sale." Sam hug his head, so he didn't have to see Gabe's reaction. He didn't have to worry though; Gabe was a much better actor than Sam was.

"Why was he on sale?"

"I don't know, the trader just showed me the discounted slaves first."

"Discounted means broken, Sam, so what's wrong with your slave?"

"Nothing." 

"Nothing?" Crowley cocked his head and looked at Sam with keen interest. "Are you getting a little cozy with your slave, Samuel?" Sam really hated Crowley referring to him as Samuel all the time; it reminded him of his creepy grandfather.

"He hasn't really given me any problems, sir." Sam lapsed back into the manners his father had drilled into Sam and Dean. "He's been helpful for this class." Gabe had been helpful for a lot of things, but Sam did not want to confess those to his slave or his educator.

"Let's see just how perfect he is." Crowley grinned. "Here, slave." The professor was pulling on a pair of blue, latex gloves. "Stand right here and take off your clothes." Sam didn't know how Gabe managed to look bored as he stripped in front of a room full of strangers. "Go over to my desk and bend over." Sam was struggling to not look horrified as his slave obeyed. "You can return to your seat, Samuel." 

Sam found a spot on the white board that made it look like he was looking at his slave's ass, but he couldn't watch Crowley spread lube on his gloved finger and then push it inside his slave. "Well, it's not his ass." Gabe shot Sam a look of pride. He was adamant about his master taking pleasure from him, but Sam wasn't into rape. Gabriel always let the subject drop after that because no matter how he argued it, he really didn't want to have sex with Sam for the purpose of having sex with Sam. So his ass got a break, which Gabe didn't mind, while once or twice a week he could convince Sam to let him get him off with his mouth or hands. Gabe usually had to spring it on Sam; his master seemed incapable of initiating any kind of physical contact between the two of them. "Stand up, slave."

See, that annoyed Sam too. Crowley called all the slaves by their place in society: slave this and slave that. It was like this wasn't the man who bought Mr. Tran's son, freed him, and married him. Sam did some research. It didn't matter that Crowley was one of the best traders out there, selling trained slaves for millions. Sam knew he had a tiny bit of a heart. Hence, it drove the idealist crazy that Crowley was so calloused. "Now Sam won't sign off on letting me test-drive his slave, so I'm not able to test his mouth. Judging how more relaxed Sam has been lately, I'm sure it's satisfactory." There were a few chuckles from Sam's fellow students. "Nothing to be ashamed of, Sam, it's what he's there for."

Sam looked away as Crowley took his slave in hand. Sam's cheeks felt like they were on fire. Gabe never got aroused when he got Sam off and Sam didn't force him. Seeing his slave, almost his friend, up there, being stroked with a gloved, lubed hand bothered Sam to the point Crowley noticed. "You're looking a tad possessive, Samuel. This bother you?" Crowley pulled Gabriel's still limp dick up with a soft twist. Sam knew from experience that move was supposed to feel good, but Gabe didn't react. "Found it." Crowley released his grip on Gabe's cock, smiling triumphantly. "There's the discount. You can't get him up without drugs." Crowley stopped down to make eye contact with the slave. "You're a little young to be having erectile dysfunction, aren't you?" He flicked Gabriel's dick, making it bounce slightly. Sam could see Gabe was becoming agitated. He hoped Gabe could make it just a little longer; Crowley was almost done.

"Stop." Gabe's voice shook as Crowley slapped his dick. There was a resounding 'smack' as Crowley slapped Gabe across the face. Gabe caught himself on the desk otherwise he would have fallen to the floor. Sam had been feeding him. He had been gaining some strength, but Gabe could never hope to win a fight with a fit, free man.

"A slave never speaks unless asked to." Crowley whispered. "Samuel, collect your willful slave." He called out aloud. "I'll be taking points off for that outburst." Sam did as he was told, fingers wrapping around the collar he had found at a drugstore. He pulled it tight enough so it was uncomfortable for Gabe. Sam needed Gabr to know he had crossed a line.

"Pick up your clothes." Sam jerked Gabriel over to the pile. He gave him a few seconds before dragging him back to his seat. Sam kicked the clothes under his seat, making Gabe kneel beside him. Normally, Gabriel sat next to him, but Sam was a little ticked off.

"Samuel?" Crowley's voice interrupted Sam's frantic thoughts. "I'm willing to add points if you punish your slave publicly right now." Sam could feel an anxiety attack building despite the meds he had taken earlier. He didn't know how to punish a slave. Sam glanced down at Gbe, swallowing hard. Gabe nodded towards Sam's belt, glaring when Sam went to refuse. Sam didn't know why Gabriel was helping him, but he obeyed, sliding his belt out of the loops on his jeans. "Impressive choice, Samuel." Crowley looked surprised at Sam's choice. "You're earning extra credit already. Now class, this is a student who will excel in his field of study. He knows what has to be done."

"Hands and knees." Sam ordered Gabe, proud his voice didn't shake. "I'll make this quick for everybody." Sam dealt seven quick strikes to Gabriel's pale skin. He didn't dwell on the angry red welts that rose over the freckles and scars. He slid his belt back on, nudged Gabriel back into position by his seat, and sat down. Crowley nodded to him and class resumed, the next student having to present his slave.

When they got home, Sam pulled Gabe into a tight hug. "I'm sorry." He whispered, trying to hide the tear streaking down his cheek. He unclasped that awful collar off his slave's neck, tossing it on the kitchen counter. 

"That was nothing, kiddo." But Gabe let Sam hold him a minute before slipping away. Sam put medicine on his back anyway and then made him brownies. "You should beat me more often if it means you'll bake." Gabe joked and Sam glared.

"That's not funny." Gabriel shrugged, making a face that insinuated that he thought it was. He changed the subject though to Sam's gratitude.

"Do we have whipped cream?"

"Yea." Sam lightened up some when he saw that Gabe wasn't that bothered by what had happened in class. He pressed his luck, asking a question that been nagging him since class. "Gabe, what happened today with Crowley, is that why you never let me return the favor?" Gabriel pushed, whipped cream can already inserted in his mouth. Slowly, he nodded. "How long has that been an issue?"

"A while." It was clear Gabe didn't want to talk about it, so Sam let it drop. He was sure it was in the paperwork.

"Save me some whipped cream, will ya?" It was Sam's turn to change the subject. He grabbed the can that was hanging from Gabe's mouth. "You're not supposed to squirt it out like that!" He had to laugh as whipped cream just about exploded in the air when Gabe nudged the nozzle.

After brownies and cleaning up whipped cream, they brushed their teeth and curled up on the couch to watch a movie. It was Friday: the one night Sam would stay up a little later. Sam ran into his room before the movie could start, grabbing pillows and blankets. He wrapped Gabriel up the best he could, making sure his slave was comfy.

"Sit down already." But it wasn't a complaint. If Sam was really Gabriel's last master before Gabe was put down, well, Sam was going to be the best master. He was going to take care of Gabe and give him every comfort he could while he could. The end of the semester loomed over Sam even though it felt like it had just begun.


	6. Make My Messes Matter

Life with Gabe was easy, but as Sam usually found in his life, nothing stayed easy for long. Sam couldn't keep Gabriel, not without his family finding out that he owned a slave. Sam could justify owning a slave for a class, but he couldn't justify after that other than... Sam didn't want to be alone again. Sam hadn't had a choice when it came to losing Jess or losing Dean, but he had a choice when it came to losing Gabriel.

What if... What if Sam kept Gabriel with the intention of freeing him? Freeing a slave could be difficult without the money necessary. It was a lot of paperwork to submit and the fee was impressive, but it was possible. Losing Gabriel wouldn't be an issue if he was saving Gabe instead. Now he needed to talk to Gabriel about it in the morning.

It was late, too late for either of them to be awake, but a bad thunderstorm had hit. Sam's overthinking was interrupted by his bedroom door opening. Sam held his breath, squinting in the dark when a bright flash of light filled the room before everything went dark. A loud boom of thunder followed immediately, and a shadow darted in Sam's room, hiding in the corner. Sam's hand crept to the knife under his pillow as he leaned over and turned on the light.

"Gabe!" Sam exclaimed with relief and sternness. "What is going on?" Sam demanded an explanation, but Gabe turned impressive puppy eyes on him. Sam's heart went out to him when he realized Gabriel was shaking, Gabriel was scared. Sam didn't have the heart to kick him out. The slave was huddled between Sam's bed and the wall, knees hugged to his chest. "Get up here." Sam pushed himself up to a sitting position as Gabriel unwrapped his arms from his legs. He was slow getting on the bed until the second clap of thunder sounded. He swiped a hand at his face and Sam realized he was crying: cheeks wet with tears. "C'mere, Gabe." Sam patted the spot next to him. Gabriel fiddled with his shirt and Sam shook his head. 

Gabriel sat down, rubbing his cheek roughly on the back of his arm. "You okay?"

"'m stupid." Gabe said so low, it was hard to catch. "It's just a storm." His entire body shook as thunder rumbled, shaking the room. Sam didn't understand why Gabe was afraid of the storm, but he was sure he had a good reason. Sam himself was more worried about the mudslides or flash floods the rain might cause in the dry spell they had been having, but there was nothing he could do about those. He could help Gabriel with his very real fear of thunderstorms. "Stupid." Shaking fingers were curled into fists as Gabe struggled to breathe. Sam knew all about that kind of fear.

"Hey, you're not stupid." Sam reached over and pulled Gabe closer to him. He was filled with need to hold him close, tell him it'd be okay. Gabe tensed, hands flying forward to push Sam away before he stopped himself. He went limp, trembling in Sam's hands. "Shit, Gabe, are you okay?" All Sam was doing was bracing Gabriel now, holding him up so he wouldn't fall over. "I was just going to hug you; that's it."

"It's this damn storm." Gabriel mumbled, staring past Sam at the blank wall. "Makes me stupid. Just do whatever you want. I'll be fine."

"You're not stupid." Sam hesitated before pulling Gabriel into his lap. "And you're not fine." It was weird: last time Sam held anyone in his arms was Jess. Jess had only sat in Sam's lap if they were having sex. Gabe probably thought Sam was fucking weird if he didn't already, but Sam needed to touch him to make sure he was okay. Gabriel tensed, hands flying to pull his pants down, but Sam just pulled him closer. "Pants stay on. This isn't about me; it's about you."

"I'm okay." Gabe mock-whined, but Sam could feel the small give in Gabe's body as he relaxed slightly. He shifted and Sam forced himself to fucking remember that this was only about Gabriel. Sam didn't know what it was, but there was something so intoxicating about his slave. Sam always wanted more, but he wouldn't take what his slave didn't really want to give. Sam would never sleep with Gabe against his will. If it gave no pleasure to Gabe, Sam wasn't going to pursue it. "Fuck it." Gabe swore near Sam's ear in a soft tone, settling against Sam's shoulder when it became apparent that his master wasn't letting go. "Thanks." His hand was clenched around a fistful of Sam's shirt. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, quietly riding out the storm. Gabriel raised his head, swiping Gus unruly hair out of his eyes. "You wanna let me go?" He leaned back, testing to see if Sam would let go of him.

"It's still storming." Sam let him go, large hands slipping down Gabe's sides and over his thighs. It was an intimate gesture, too intimate for what they were on paper.

"It's okay." Gabe lifted his leg and slipped off his master's lap. He landed on his knees, adapting the pose he was used to holding. He shivered at the next flash of lightning, but didn't move otherwise. "What do you want from me?" He whispered, scratching the back of his neck. "Like what do you want me to do?" He looked nervous, eyes focused on the bunched up fabric of his borrowed sweatpants. "Why don't you use me?" His hands clenched into fists and then he let go, pressing his hands down against his thighs.

"Because you're a person, Gabriel!" Sam wanted to touch his slave again, but he didn't want to cross the line. He didn't—he didn't know how to help Gabe see what he was trying to say. Words were failing Sam in this moment, so he did something incredibly stupid. Sam leaned over and kissed Gabe.

"Uh-uh, nope, no." Gabe sputtered, pulling back from the kiss like Sam had burned him. "I am not playing that game!" He shrank back, tumbling off of Sam's bed. He fell into the shadow of the bed and retreated, a memory of the shadow form moments earlier except he was escaping back into the living room.

"Shit!" Sam threw off the blankets, rushing after him. "I'm sorry, Gabriel! I'm not—."

"Stop calling me that!" A baseball bat, Dean's baseball bat from like middle school that Sam kept tucked away was swung at him. Gabriel must have found it and hid it, kept it handy. Sam could see him keeping a weaopin around to feel safe. "I'm not him! I'm not Gabriel! I'm nothing!" Sam's slave screamed at him, swinging the bat wildly. "I'm fucking nothing!"

"No, you're not." Sam held out a hand, trying to, fuck it, he didn't even know, calm Gabe down? Get Dean's bat? 

"Yes, I am." Each syllable was punctuated with another swing. All Sam could see by was the light from his bedroom, shadows helping neither of them. Sam caught glimpse of a glimmer on Gabe's face, tears, and reached forward. "I'm nothing!" Gabe swung more out of reflex than anything, but this time the bat connected with Sam's wrist. Sam cried out and the bat clattered to the ground as Gabe dropped it. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Gabe sobbed, almost as shocked as Sam. Sam grabbed his injured wrist, cradling it close to his chest. "I'll do anything. I'll make it up to you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Gabe chanted. He hurried to the freezer and got some ice, wrapping it in a towel. "Here." He pushed the towel towards Sam. "I'm sorry." He repeated again, his mantra to keep his shit together. They were gonna cut him; take his balls; take his eyes. 

"Gabe, Gabe, stop." Sam's voice wavered with pain. "Gabriel, stop!" Finally his slave stopped trying to push ice at him. His slave's head dropped down to his chest and he waited, squeezing the towel between twitching hands. Sam felt along his wrist, heart sinking as he realized through the excruciating pain that his bone was not entirely in his arm anymore. "You're a good swing." Sam joked weakly, pain catching up to him quickly. "You played?"

"Baseball?" Sam's slave looked confused and rightly so. Sam was asking him what sports he played while holding a broken wrist to his chest. Sam nodded. "Hell no." Gabe finally replied. He looked scared, standing there with his face half in shadow and half in light. 

Slaves that attacked their masters... They were made public examples. There was no quiet put-downs for a slave who attacked his or her master. He would be tormented and abused for years and years, probably mutilated and disfigured. They'd take away his senses, but not his life, never his life. 

Thunder crashed, more faint this time, but Gabe was shuddering for another reason now. He had wrecked his perfect plan.

"Gabe?" His golden eyes widened. Sam was talking to him and he missed it. Gabe started talking again, stumbling over his words, not talking quick enough yet saying too much. That wasn't a new problem.

"Sorry. Always wanted to play drums but m–my mom said no. Said it was beneath us." A ghost of his usual smirk crossed Gabe's face. "This is it, ain't it?" Gabe winced as the words left his mouth. "You can't protect me from myself."

"Sometimes," Sam stopped himself. Sure, he'd known the guy, owned the guy, for a month, but this was a harsh thing to say to anyone. Years of watching Dean nearly destroy himself had trained Sam to say the truth. "Sometimes, it sure seems like you're trying to get killed." Sam made a point to not use the term 'put down.' Gabriel flinched, his jaw suddenly tight. Sam's eyes narrowed as Gabe swallowed hard. "That's it, isn't it? That's why you want me to return you. Geez, Gabe." Sam couldn't fathom those depths of despair. He had been low, sure, but if that's what Gabe had been gunning for, then Sam was the last piece of a track Gabriel had been working on for some time. "Is that why you said Mr. Tran was sick of your tricks? Is that why he sold you to me in the first place?! He knew I didn't want anything permanent!"

"This doesn't change anything." Gabe sounded weak when he said it. His shoulders slumped. "It's all I had and I've gone and wrecked it. They're gonna cut me for what I've done." He looked paler than usual as Sam tugged him into a one-armed hug. Sam couldn't lose Gabriel too. 

"They're not going to find out." Sam's voice didn't waver this time. "I was mugged and didn't get a good look at the guy. Let's go to the walk-in clinic." Gabe hunched over as he retrieved his collar, fastening it around his own neck.

"You're gonna lie for..."

"Yea, I'm gonna lie for you. I'm not losing you, Gabe. I'm not returning you either." Gabe ducked his head down as they headed towards the door. "That okay with you?" Gabriel barely managed to meet Sam's eyes before nodding. There were tears in those guarded eyes, but Sam didn't pry. Sam didn't want to know if those were tears of sadness instead of tears of happiness. The ring in Sam's dresser spoke of having plans ripped away despite best intentions. Gabe had to feel raw after all the shit that had happened in a short span of time. At least the thunderstorm had subsided some as they made their way to the bus stop.


	7. You Are the Only Exception

The receptionist was nice enough for the neighborhood they were in. She handed Sam a clipboard and a pen. Sam sat down and tried to fill it out with his left hand but it was a slow process and painful to watch.

"Can I?" Gabriel asked after Sam had just about made his name utterly unrecognizable.

"Please." Sam let out a frustrated huff that was supposed to be a laugh. He hated feeling like an invalid, helpless, as Gabe took the pen. Gabriel filled out the easy parts like gender and the rest of Sam's name. Sam gave him their address and then they went through the rest of the form together. Gabe made Sam stay put as he dropped the form back off and they waited together until Sam's name was called by a pretty, middle-aged woman dressed in green scrubs. "Mom?" Sam stood up quickly, wrist still pressed to his chest. "What are you doing here?" 

"We moved. I tried calling you to let you know, but you didn't answer." She looked sad before she glanced behind Sam, spotting Gabriel there. "Hello." She stepped around Sam. "Who is this? Is this why you don't have time for your family anymore?"

"It's not like that." Sam groaned. He had forgotten about his little shadow in the moment of shock over seeing his mother again. It had been a while. Sam thought the last time he had seen her was when they met with the detective who told them Dean's case was being closed. "This is Gabriel." Gabriel stiffened up against Sam as Mary held her hand out.

"Well, I'm Mary." Gabe stared at her for a minute until she saw his collar and realized her mistake.

"Oh." She withdrew her hand and shot the receptionist a nervous glance. "Come on into the examining room, Sam, so I can see the damage. It says here you have a broken wrist." She was looking back at Sam with concern, genuine concern. "What happened?" 

"Got mugged." Sam shrugged. "I scared him off, but not before he got a hit in with his baseball bat."

"You should have just given him your wallet." Mary opened the door to the room. "Have a seat." 

"It was a bat, not a gun. And I wasn't raised to take shit from people that weren't family." Sam sat down on the exam table, his bitterness obvious. Gabriel noted that his legs were so long he didn't have to use the stool. Gabriel kneeled by the door, out of the way. He knew his place even if Sam didn't. Despite Sam's broken wrist, Gabe found himself protective of his master. Innocent, giant puppy.

"That was your father, not me." Mary gave Sam a look. "Lord forbid I lose both my boys. I was scared we were going to lose you with what happened with Jess."

"That's rich." Sam snorted.

"Samuel Winchester, I was sick and you know that. I didn't want to leave my three boys all on their own." Gabriel watched the exchange with interest. His master hadn't mentioned much of family short of what little he had told Gabriel about his brother. Sam had never really mentioned parents or the person he was going to give an engagement ring too. Gabriel wasn't sure if it was the green-eyed, handsome man or the blonde, beautiful woman that the ring was going to, but judging the ring, he assumed the female. She looked kind of like Sam's mother in a younger way. Gabe wondered what happened to her. "Let me see your wrist."

"Yea, yea." But Sam deflated and held out his arm. Mary examined the broken flesh and the broken bone. 

"Well, the mugger certainly did a job." She commented lightly, but the furrow in her forehead spoke of how seriously she was taking this whole thing. "Pitt you didn't get a good look at him. That bastard should be in jail." Sam caught Gabe's eye and gave him a reassuring look even though his slave looked pale and nauseated. Gabe opened his mouth and Sam shook his head.

"Pity." Sam added quickly when he saw how his mother was looking at him. 

"Just stick to your story." She warned. "You're attached." She sounded surprised. "Is he for school?"

"He was. I'm keeping him after though."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you." She was cleaning around the wound as gently as she could. "I'm going to get the doctor. We'll have you patched in no time."

"Thanks." Sam smiled, meaning that one word as much as he could. He had expected a lot of things when he told his mom about Gabriel, pride was not one of them. He hadn't even told her why he was keeping Gabriel, because he couldn't handle being the reason Gabriel was put down. No, wait, that was a lie. Sam couldn't handle losing Gabriel because having Gabriel around kept Sam from feeling lonely. Mary smiled and left, scribbling her final notes on Sam's paperwork.

A while later, Sam and Gabriel left. Sam's wrist was more or less back together, in a cast, in a sling. Sam felt vulnerable walking back to the bus stop with only one good arm. The gentle rain was still loud enough to mess with his perceptiveness. Sam worried that they might actually get mugged. Gabriel was there, but he wasn't exactly there for protection. A car pulled up behind them and honked. Sam didn't look, but Gabe did, tugging on Sam's sleeve. 

"It's your mom." Gabe managed to stop Sam. 

"You need a ride?" Mary rolled the window down. "I'm just finishing my shift, headed home." Sam hesitated, but Gabe nudged him, nodding. Sam was tense, Gabe could tell. Gabe didn't want Sam to have one of his attacks tonight. His master had been through enough tonight and that was all Gabe's fault.

"Sure." Sam sighed. "Thanks." He got in the backseat and a confused Gabriel followed. He slid to the floor, back to his knees, but Sam caught his wrist with his good hand. "Up here with me, please." Gabe glanced between the seats to see Mary was listening intently, trying to focus on the road instead of Sam and Gabe. "Gabe, please." Damn giant puppy. Gabe crawled up and settled against Sam, making sure to not jostle his wrist. Gabe tucked his legs up and pressed the side of his head against Sam's shoulder. Mary glanced up and saw how Sam relaxed as soon as Gabriel listened.

They were quiet, leaning into each other. Mary had a feeling that both were about as lost as the other. And they had found something in each other that made them feel found, even if they didn't realize it yet. Gabe focused on the sliver of heat between him and Sam that slowly grew. It was late, too late, as their breaths somehow found a sync. Gabe burrowed into their shared warmth, his eyes drooping shut before he realized that he didn't ask if he could sleep. 

Sam felt Gabe's body give and knew his slave had fallen asleep. It was a miracle that Gabe hadn't fallen asleep sooner. Sam knew from experience how panic attacks could drain a person of all their energy in just a few minutes. Gabe was feeling guilty on top of everything. He had hurt Sam on accident, and had been nothing but angelic since the accident. Poor guy deserved a little rest. Sam glanced over to check on Gabe, his face peaceful under the city lights.

"Your place or mine?" Mary asked, checking the mirror. "Your dad is away on a trip. I'm just a block from here."

"Okay." Sam was starting to feel sleepy now that his pain medication was kicking in. "You guys moved. I never thought that would happen."

"Me neither, but that house... Too many memories." Mary turned her blinker on and took the turn down a street. "We're down this way now. I didn't realize how close we were until I saw your address on the form."

"I haven't moved." Sam couldn't stop the slight defensiveness in his voice. "I can't move yet. I can't give up."

"We haven't given up. We just couldn't live with ghosts anymore. You know what the detective said. Even if they find Dean, he's not going to be the Dean we remember. S-slavery changes people, we can only hope his experiences have been good." Sam glanced back down at Gabriel, fear creeping into his heart. What if Dean thought he was nothing too? His self-esteem hadn't been great as a free man. What if Dean hated his given name too? What if Dean didn't want to remember who he was because, like it was for Gabe, it was too painful.

"I know." Sam's throat felt dry and tight. He had to make things better for Gabe and he could only hope that Dean would meet someone who would do the same for him.

"Well," Mary cleared her throat, trying to sound more peaceful than she felt. "This is me." She pulled into the driveway of a little raised ranch, parking the car. Sam couldn't tell the color, but he liked it. He hated that Dean had never seen it, wouldn't know how to get to it, but he knew his parents had to move. It had been seven years with no word, no clues, no Dean. And frankly, it didn't get easier.

"Wake up, Gabe." Sam nudged his slave with his elbow. Gabe yawned, blinking his eyes in a guarded expression that Sam had come to understand as scared. Gabe was so controlled all of the time except for when he wasn't. They got out: Gabe staring at the house. "It's my mom's." Sam whispered. "We're spending the night."

"Do you want me to pleasure her?" Gabe whispered back, eyes still wide. Mary stiffened and glanced over her shoulder from where she was unlocking the door.

"No, Gabe, geez. She's my mom." Sam sounded disgusted, a fact that comforted Gabe very much. "We're just spending the night because I'm drugged up and you're tiny."

"Thought you weren't close." Gabe stumbled after his master as they caught up to Mary who pushed the door open.

"We're not really." Sam admitted. "But she's my mom and she's safe. Nothing is going to be expected of you."

"You bought a sex slave?" Mary asked, recognizing the language and thought processes from her time at a slave treatment clinic.

"I didn't know he was one." 

"Oh." Mary frowned. "It should be in his paperwork. It's clear by his behavior."

"I don't really spend time with slaves, Mom." Sam tried to cover his yawn but failed.

"Get to bed, we can talk in the morning."

"I have work tomorrow." 

"I already called Pam. You can double-check, but she said take a day for once in your life." Sam cracked a small smile at that, reaching over to pull Gabe over close. Mary watched them with a careful eye, wondering if they knew how much they gravitated towards each other. Gabe hung around Sam until Sam offered physical contact. If Gabe was a sex slave, Sam probably had been disorientating the first few days. Sam was very tactile and more into relationships than just sex. Gabe had adjusted and almost seemed as if he craved Sam's non-sexual attention. "You two get to bed." Mary led the down the hall, pulling open a door near the middle of the carpeted hallway. "I only have one guest room; sorry."

"We'll figure it out." Sam replied just as Gabe offered to sleep on the floor. He gave Sam an almost pleading look and Sam softened, waving him in. "Night, Mom, thanks for everything." Sam hesitated before giving her a one-armed hug. "Love you." He mumbled before closing the door behind them. Sam made sure Gabriel had a blanket and a pillow before curling up on the bed. They both fell asleep, falling into a deep, exhausted slumber. High above the rain clouds emptying their buckets upon the dry and thirsty earth, the moon shone, peeking down in another state, another city, another master and slave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going to get into where Dean is in other part of this series. Dean's story starts the first chapter of 'Saving Dean.' 
> 
> -fluffy


	8. Don't Let the Sun Catch You Crying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I had accidentally tagged this fic as having a major character death, um yea no, spoiler alert, but no one dies. That was an accidental tagging on my part, sorry about any worry I might have caused.

Mary didn't know what to think. Sam and Gabe were both awake and, uh, active, but Sam wouldn't ever use a slave like that, would he?

"Gabe, fuck, dude, we're at my parent's house. We're probably grossing my mom out right now." Sam tried to whisper as Gabe just hollowed his cheeks and slid more of Sam's dick into his mouth. "You don't have to do this." His hips were already thrusting up weakly. Gabe rolled his eyes and slid off for a moment. He never understood why Sam fought this: this was the natural order of things.

"I want to." Gabe gave Sam's tip a soft lick like he would a lollipop. Sam was never going to be able to look at lollipops again as Gabe moved further down the shaft. Kitten licks here and there, lapping at Sam like he was edible. Sam groaned, head crashing back into the pillows as Gabe ran his lips and tongue over one side of Sam's cock, wet fingers working the other side. Those fingers trailed down to Sam's balls, teasing and rubbing, as Gabe slid his mouth back down Sam's length. Sam grabbed Gabe's hair with his good hand, and waxed poetic in his thoughts about how soft Gabe's hair was now and how good his mouth felt before shooting his load down Gabriel's ready throat. Gabe swallowed and slid off, lapping up anything left. Sam untangled his hand with some regret as he realized he facefucked his slave. Gabe looked pleased despite everything, swinging his hair over his shoulder. It had gotten 'swoopy' as Gabe called it under Sam's care. Gabe wouldn't let Sam cut it even though he had offered.

"God, you're too good at that." Sam gave a weary laugh. Gabriel smirked as he tucked his master back into his boxers. 

"It's a gift." Gabe slid off the bed and back to his makeshift bed on the floor. It was just a few minutes before Sam's breaths started to come in and out nice and slow. Gabe wanted to get him water or coffee if Mary had any. He had a lot of making up to do for that broken wrist.

Gabe found Mary sitting in the kitchen, head phones in.

"Oh, thank God!" She took out the headphones with a swift jerk. "You're done." Gabriel opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Sam did not take after his mother when it came to be direct. He tried to speak again, but again nothing. Gabe looked down at the tiles and wished the earth would swallow him whole.

"Sorry." He croaked the first word that came to mind. "Hoped you were sleeping." Gabe made sure to not mention himself directly; free people didn't like that. "Didn't mean to disturb." Mary wasn't like Sam. She knew things. She knew how slaves were supposed to be.

"Does he force you?" Gabe shook his head, biting his lip to keep from laughing. Sam couldn't force Gabe if he tried. Sam was too sweet. If anyone was forcing anyone, it was Gabe.

"So he likes you." Mary pulled out a glass and poured Gabe a glass of orange juice. "Sit. Drink." She nodded to the table. "He needs someone constant in his life."

"I should give this to Sam."

"Let him sleep it off." Mary reached over and took Gabriel by the hand, leading him to the table. "Please." She let go of his hand and walked to the chair on the opposite side. "Please sit." Gabe glanced around the room before he complied. Mary had to be like Sam in some regards—she was far too kind. Gabe didn't know how to handle kindness. He needed the sharp reminder that he was a slave or else he'd become soft, weak. He had learned how to protect his spirit while still able to survive. Gabe was losing that edge living with Sam. He was becoming needy, dependent on Sam's approval. Gabe knew he was broken, he just never realized how shattered he had been. Until Sam.

"What would you like, ma'am?" Gabriel asked, eyes downcast. He was trained, broken-in, he just hated to show it. Gabe hated that the masters and trainers had won. "I can please just about anyone."

"No, thank you." Mary shook her head. "I'd rather if you told me more about Sam. How is he?"

"He's okay." Gabe didn't know what he was supposed to do in this situation. Sam said that he wasn't close to his mom; that meant Gabe shouldn't tell her about the anxiety attacks and the nightmares that Sam tried to hide from even him.

"He doing well in school?" Gabe huffed a laugh at that question.

"He's a fucking genius." Gabe's face softened. He meant it. Gabe thought Sam was so intelligent. The amount of time he took to study and the accumulation of knowledge he had—Sam impressed Gabe. He had never had the brains for what Sam was doing. His education had been a little more, ah, specialized. "He's so smart." Gabe smiled just a hint at the table, but Mary saw.

"You really think so?" Sam had wandered into the kitchen, stretching to his full extent. Gabe forgot how quickly a cap nap revived the giant of a master he had. Sam was smiling at him, so that was a good sign Gabe sprang up from his seat, picking up his untouched orange juice and bringing it to Sam. "Thanks." Sam took a sip. "You hit your head?" He teased his slave. "You're nicer than usual."

"I kind of owe you the rest of my life." Sam put down the juice so he could wrap his good arm around Gabe's thin shoulders.

"No, you don't." Sam squeezed and Gabe hid his face against Sam's chest. In the beginning, Gabe had accepted Sam's cuddliness because it pleased his master, but now, Gabe looked for those reassuring touches. He hated how Sam made him feel safe. Sam made Gabe feel human which for a slave was a dangerous feeling.

"He's the one who broke your wrist." Mary hummed. "Keep that quiet. You plan on freeing him?"

"Once I have the money." Sam said.

"Wait, what?" Gabe's head reared up. "You're getting rid of me?!" He pulled back, confused by the conflicting emotions inside. 

"No. You'd always be welcome." Sam had those damn puppy dog eyes like Gabe had managed to hurt him. Again. Gabe ducked his head down and tucked his emotions back down. He was supposed to be making things up to Sam. 

"Sorry." He whispered. He owed Sam. He owed him everything. He didn't like it, but Gabe paid his debts, at least he used to. Before. Back when he was a free man, all those years ago.

"Gabe, you don't owe me anything." Sam yanked out a chair and sank into it. "Come on, come sit." Sam glanced over. "Morning, mom." He offered her a tentative smile. "I called Pam and she threatened to fire me if I showed up today." Gabe hung back before Sam nodded towards the empty chair. Gabriel approached the table as meekly as he could before turning and climbing up on Sam's lap instead. Fuck. He didn't know how to please Sam or make him happy or make things up to him, especially since Sam had become very tense underneath Gabe. "Um, Gabe?" Sam reached up with his good arm to rub his slave's back. He shot his mom a nervous look, but she just smiled, getting up.

"I'll give you two a minute." She picked up her glass of juice and slid the sliding door back. "I'll be outside when you guys are ready."

"Gabe?" Sam asked, trying to lean back to see his friend's face. "What's going on?" Gave exhaled a shaky breath, arms tucked in by his side, fingers clenched around handfuls of Sam's shirt. "Hey, it's okay, it's okay. What's wrong, huh? You want to tell me what's wrong?" Gabe just clung closer which was odd since Gabe never let Sam hold him for more than a few seconds. Ever since the clinic, no, ever since their fight, Gabriel had been off. "Is this about what happened with the bat? I'm not mad."

"You should be." Gabe sniffled. "I meant to hurt you. I wanted to hurt you."

"Okay." Sam was more than a little stunned, but he'd come back to that later when Gabriel was his usual snarky, carefree self. "I said it's okay, so it's okay."

"It's not!" Gabe wrapped his arms around Sam's neck and burrowed his head into Sam's shoulder. "I'm bad." He whispered. "You should have called the police. You should have let them take me. I would have deserved everything they did to me." 

"No, you wouldn't have."

"Yes, I would have, Sam!" Sam found himself face to face with an emphatic Gabriel."You're the fucking best thing that could have happened to me and I wanted to hurt you. And I did. You should have sent me away." The slave's face was red and blotchy, a stray tear streaking down his cheek. "You should punish me."

"I'm not going to punish you." Sam said it gently but firmly. He would never punish Gabe for having a damn panic attack. Sam had far too many to not empathize with his slave.

"You should. I'm bad." Gabe ducked his head down. Sam's heart ached for Gabriel, so he hugged him close. "I've always been bad." Gabe whimpered, his breathing coming in and out faster and faster as he couldn't fight the tears anymore. "Oh, fuck." Sam heard Gabe tack on as sobs threatened to tear him apart. Gabe hadn't cried in years, fucking years. "This all your fault." Gabe turned teary eyes upward before another ugly sob caused him to hide his face once more. Sam didn't know why all the reasons Gabe was crying, and Gabe wasn't going to tell him. Sam being the sweet and wonderful Sam that he was just held Gabe together as he finally fell apart.

It was funny that Sam would be the master to break him, fitting too. The one person who hadn't tried to shatter Gabriel was the one he broke for.


	9. I Wanna Reverse This Tragedy

A few days later, things had changed between them. Gabriel was quiet and Sam wasn't. Sam was sweeter, kinder, if that was even possible. He was not so open to those sexual favors Gabe needed to give to feel in control.

Gabe, on the other hand, was more snarky and unruly when he wasn't moping at the wall. Gabriel was not okay with breaking down in Sam's arms. Sure, Sam held him and whispered nice things in his ear, things like Gabriel was safe, that Sam would take care of him. Sweet. Adorable even. But Gabe was not going down like that. No way. No sir. Gabe wasn't weak.

So the next day, while Sam was at the classes that didn't require Gabriel's attendance, Gabriel was meticulously ripping up Sam's note cards for his upcoming exam. Sam was going to be furious, but then he'd know that Gabe wasn't his little bitch. Gabriel wasn't anyone's little bitch.

Gabe wasn't subtle about his destruction either. Ripped up note cards with their precious information were strewn around the apartment, right where Sam would see them and know that Gabe wasn't his to do whatever he damned well pleased with. 

Hours ticked by, and Gabriel was starting to feel uneasy. Sam had worked really hard on those note cards. He had one of his headaches when he was trying to do them. Gabriel had to stop him and get him to take a pill. Gabe had sneaked in a hand job too while Sam had been distracted by his work. Gabriel's stomach flopped at the thought of Sam having an anxiety attack because of Gabe. Sam was hurt. His wrist was still in a cast. He wouldn't be able to rewrite the cards all that well. Fuck. Gabe sucked down a quick breath. He had not thought this through. The slave glanced over at the clock, his stomach churning. Sam was almost home.

Gabriel got off the couch and sprinted around the apartment, picking up every last scrap of paper. He panicked and shoved the pieces in the toilet. His frustration knew no bounds when the toilet refused to flush. Great. Gabe's sharp ears picked up the sound of Sam's key scraping into the lock. He ran out of the bathroom, stripping off his clothes and burying himself under the sheets on the couch. Sam would leave him alone if he was naked. The lock clicked and Gabe reminded himself to breathe.

"Hey." Sam's keys crashed into each other as he tossed them on to the counter. "Did you have a good day? I missed having you around in class." Sam had been saying sweet shit like that lately. It drove Gabe nuts. "Class was boring without you, although I actually got some studying done." Gabe was still under the covers, so he didn't see Sam toss his book bag at him.

"Oof!" Gabe clawed the sheets from his eyes after that. "I was sleeping!" He lied.

"Liar." Sam grinned. "Open up the bag." Gabriel complied, hating how Sam was watching him with eagerness all over his stupid face. "I stopped at that place you like." Gabe dug into the book bag, pulling out the crinkling, brown, paper bag.

"Is it—."

"A large chocolate cupcake filled with ganache and covered in chocolate frosting, gummy worms, and Oreos? Yea."

"You got me a dirt cupcake." Gabe had already opened the bag, taking a huge bite out of the cupcake. He moaned a little as the filling gushed out into his mouth. "Did you want some?" Gabe asked after he swallowed, after he realized he was being presumptuous. Sam looked a little red as he shook his head.

"No, I got it for you. You know I'm not huge on sweets." Gabriel shook his head, taking another giant bite.

"You don't know what you're missing." He half-mumbled, half-groaned. Sam was the fucking best. 

"Yea, I can tell." Sam smirked, raising his eyebrows in half disbelief at the rate that cupcake was disappearing. "All right." Sam reached over and picked his bag back up. "I'll be in my room. I'm going to go study for that damn exam."

"O-okay." Gabe was licking off his fingers when the pangs of guilt started back up. He needed to tell Sam the truth. Sam was nothing but nice to him and Gabe was a brat. "Uh, about that?" He stuttered. 

"I have to study, Gabe." Sam leveled him a look that made Gabriel feel even worse. "No distractions this time." The fondness in Sam's eyes was unbearable.

"I tore up your notecards!" Gabriel cried before shrinking back against the couch.

"What?!" Sam turned from the door. "Stop shitting me, Gabe. I've really got to study. That's not funny."

"I tore up your notecards." Gabe glumly repeated himself. "I was just so angry and I ripped them all up and flushed them down the toilet." He hung his head. "Oh, and the toilet's clogged." He added.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Gabe flinched as Sam roared. He wished. Oh, how the fuck Gabe wished he was joking. "Those took me hours to finish!"

"I'm sorry." And Gabriel was. He regretted his actions, but the dangerous look on Sam's face was information enough to not plead his case at that moment. 

Sam grabbed Gabriel's collar and fastened it around his neck: his slave more pliant and submissive than Sam had ever seen him. Not that Sam cared, not in this minute. Using the collar, Sam dragged his slave from the couch and towards the door. "No!" Gabriel twisted his body to try to get away, but Sam was strong, even with his weaker hand. He threw Gabe into the hallway and locked the door behind him.

Sam's warning from the first night echoed in Gabe's ears as he sank against the door. Stark naked and kicked out: he had really fucked up. Gabe shivered as footsteps echoed. It turned it to just be Sam who tossed a pair of boxers out the door, slamming it shut before Gabe could even speak. It didn't take long for the tears to come. Gabe was sobbing before ten minutes had passed. Sam had given up on him. Sam didn't think he was worth selling back: Sam just wanted him gone. Gabriel was going to end up in a dumpster, cut into a million pieces.

Another ten minutes went by as Gabriel couldn't stop crying to catch his breath. He had done this to himself. Sam was right to punish him. Gabriel was a bad slave. He was supposed to make things up to Sam. But then a quieter voice inside of him whispered that he had been supposed to be taking care of Sam. 

Gabriel took in a ragged breath, wiping his nose on the back of his bare arm. He wrinkled his nose at the trail of snot. He was going to have to get Sam to fuck him now. He couldn't think of any other way to make things up to Sam. More tears came, even after Sam opened the door a few minutes later, looking as contrite as Gabriel felt.

"I can't study with you crying like that."

"Sorry." Gabriel hiccuped, still banished in the hallway. He was clenching the boxers in his hands, hugging his knees to his chest. He looked like a lost puppy, sitting there on the dirty floor.

"I do not think you know what that word means."

"I mean it! I do!" Gabriel teared up again. Sam didn't believe him. Sam was going to call the police. This was it: this was how Gabriel Novak finally met his bitter end.

"Get over here." Sam grimaced. "I was quoting a movie, you dork." Gabe looked up, blinking back more tears as Sam waved him over. He stood up quickly and crossed the hall. "You're writing all those cards for me." Gabe nodded. He could do that. For Sam he would anyway. "I unclogged the toilet." Sam wrapped his arm around Gabe, the arm without the cast. 

"My hero." Gabe mumbled from where he has pressed his face into Sam's chest. He couldn't stay sad and serious all the time, even though he wanted to do nothing but grovel. "I'm sorry." He whispered, a few more tears squeezing past clenched eyelids. Sam wasn't sure what to do with the sudden surge in emotions from Gabriel. Ever since the night Sam had been hurt, Gabriel had come unraveled. Sam leaned over and kissed the crown of Gabe's head. Gabe leaned into the extra comfort being offered. 

"I'm sorry too." Sam straightened up. "Now, let's work on those notecards."


	10. Walkin' On Sunshine

Sam and a now clothed Gabe worked on the notecards long into the night. They had camped out in Sam's bed as Sam poured through his books and added sticky tabs so Gabe could find the information he needed to copy down. Sam was fucking meticulous, so even though Gabriel's letters started out wobbly and crooked, Sam made sure he copied everything that was highlighted down on the card.

"This whole damn book is highlighted." Gabriel grumbled an hour into his task. So tough for someone who still had hiccups from his breakdown in the hall.

"It is not: just the important stuff." Sam leaned over to check his progress. "You know you can go to bed whenever you get tired." 

"Not tired." Gabe yawned. "I'll ask you questions and you answer them while I write. Make up for the lost study time."

"I wish you thought of that before you tore up my cards." Sam teased. "It's a good idea." He smiled and Gabe smiled back, feeling oddly at peace. Sam wasn't giving up on him. Sam leaned back against the wall, and Gabe scooted up by him, dragging the heavy textbook and the notecards with him. "Go ahead." Sam gestured. "Ask me a question." 

"No peeking." Gabe could feel the exhaustion welling up as his body caught up to what his mind had already realized: he was safe. Sam sighed, closing his eyes, that small smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth. Question by question, they went through the book as Gabe wrote each one down with the answer on the back. 

It was late, neither of them could control their yawns. Sam was curled up on his side, watching Gabriel write. The slave wasn't so shaky anymore, his letters were less crooked, more straight. Sam was feel less straight since he had spent the last five minutes just watching Gabe work. Gabriel was different again: he was more at peace. Sam liked seeing him be so relaxed. 

Sam fell asleep first, even with Gabe sitting there with the lamp on, scribbling away. Gabe wasn't sure if he should stay, but Sam had given him no command to go. Sam's cards weren't done, so Gabe made the choice to stay and to finish making things up to Sam. God, his master was so weird and so kind. The flutter in his stomach surprised Gabriel, but only to a certain extent: he always had liked sweet things.

Sam woke up in a mess off warm, soft limbs flung in every direction but still somehow wrapped around some part of his body. It surprised him, his nose telling him that it was Gabriel who had octopused himself to Sam so intimately. Gabriel limited the time he spent in Sam's arms, except for when Sam was asleep, or so it seemed. Sam studied Gabe's face while he slept, marveling and relishing this rare show of trust. Sam had been worried how the interaction last night would have changed things between them: but this development was more than welcome. It was no secret Sam was attached. What he was trying to hide was just how attached he was. Jess had never been this cuddly, Sam wrapped an arm around that broad back that spoke of another male wrapped around him. Sam couldn't bring himself to care, which worried him slightly, that he was comparing his slave to his dead girlfriend and that he was also realizing he liked the smaller yet very much so masculine body pressed against him. Sam was fairly confident in his sexuality, but he was becoming aware that maybe there was more to his sexuality that he had previously thought. 

Sam shifted, getting ready to get out of bed, when Gabe groaned, snuggling in closer in the space Sam just vacated.

"Sam." He muttered.

"You're calling my name in your sleep now?" Sam teased, pushing his introspective thoughts aside. He was not having an attack over someone he couldn't pursue a relationship with.

"Who says I was asleep?" Those golden eyes were slits, but they were open. "You're not that stealthy. I'm trying to sleep here." There was some of that previous cheek Sam was used to. Sam cracked a smile, more over the fact Gabe seemed more himself for the first time in days.

"Are you? My bad. I thought you were working on my note cards." Gabe's smirk faltered.

"Fell asleep, sorry." His eyes dropped.

"Hey," Sam wrapped his fingers under Gabe's chin. "I'm not mad. This was a nice way to wake up."

"Oh, you mean this?" Gabriel waggled his eyebrows, gesturing to his face. The false confidence, that mask, was back in place as Gabe struggled to recompose. Sam had seen behind the mask, and Gabe didn't like it, didn't know how to deal with it.

"Shh." Sam leaned over him, kissing Gabe's forehead. The slave wrinkled his forehead at the small affection, wriggling so that more of him was under Sam's bulk.

"Hey there, big boy." Gabe managed to get in a good thrust up against Sam's morning wood.

"No." Sam leaned over him more, taking care to not put his whole weight on the man underneath him. He slotted his knee between Gabriel's legs; his other leg against the outside of Gabriel's left leg. Sam's elbows crowded around Gabriel, taking care of Sam's still healing wrist, but boxing Gabriel in. Gabe tensed for a second, but that sly smile returned.

Gabe didn't think Sam was about to start anything. He was not going to get his hopes up that he might actually be able to prove himself. Sam liked to hold him. Gabe thought Sam might like to kiss him. Gabe wasn't going to tell him he could do anything he damned well pleased. Sam wasn't like that; Gabe hoped Sam wasn't like that. In the mean time, Gabe kind of liked being under Sam, kind of liked the soft kissed being pressed to his cheek and neck.

"You gonna kiss me or not?" Gabe raised an eyebrow, raising his head to look Sam in the eye. He could only just lay here for so long without doing something. Sam looked startled as if he had been as lost in those kisses as Gabe wished he could have been. Sam hesitated before finally speaking what the issue was.

"You didn't like the last time I kissed you." 

"I was having a panic attack." Gabe rolled his eyes. "Do you like being kissed when you're having an anxiety attack."

"Depends on the person." Sam joked badly. Gabe smiled at that, at how easy Sam could be to read sometimes.

"Well, I'm not getting any younger." Gabe smirked and leaned forward just enough to brush his lips against Sam's. He settled back against the pillows with a strange expression on his face, wriggling slightly under Sam, watching to see how he'd react. Sam blinked. He wasn't sure if he'd call that a kiss, a test maybe, but not a kiss. "That was permission to try again." Gabe clarified, shameless as always. Sam had to wonder if anything could make Gabriel blush. 

Normally Sam could more than keep up with Gabe's banter. He held his own and Gabe knew that, respected it, but this was another thing entirely. Sam wanted this, whatever this was, with Gabriel. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted it to be a good kiss for Gabe. Sam wanted Gabe to want this too. Sam knew his cheeks were red from just how hot his face felt; his palms were almost sweaty as he reached up and pushed a piece of hair from Gabe's face. Gabe bit his bottom lip, and Sam could see his slave's mind was racing. 

"Sorry." Sam stammered. "I'm usually better at these kind of things."

"Mm, that panic attack kiss says things differ—Mmph!" Gabe gave a startled sound as Sam closed the gap between them. The kiss was too firm, too rushed, so Sam softened, melted as Gabriel reciprocated. Kissing Gabe was—kissing Gabe was fun. It gave Sam a rush to have his friend kiss him back in ways that made Sam's head spin. Gabriel was a good kisser. Hell, he was an amazing kisser. Sam didn't want to ruin the moment by dwelling on just how Gabriel obtained such a skill.

They didn't separate until Sam's alarm went off again, reminding him to get his ass to work. With one more kiss, Sam rushed to get ready, his usual morning shower exchanged for making out with his slave. During his shift, Sam resolved to be stronger. He could not take advantage of his position like that. But after another night of note-card restitution and sleeping all curled up with his current favorite person in the state led to another make-out session the next morning.

"I'm glad you know how to kiss." Gabriel was on top of Sam this time, leaning down to press a sound kiss to his master's lips. He was in dangerous territory, playing a game with a master that slaves never win. Gabe wasn't playing though, not really. He had no motivation to play this game; Gabe just wanted to soak up as much as he could from Sam before this fairytale ended. He was not too proud to admit he was truly attached. Sometimes Sam felt more like a friend than a master.

Gabriel wasn't sure if friend was the right word, but he sure as hell wasn't going to replace it with something else. 

Realizing that he had been gazing down at Sam with a silly smile on his lips, Gabe dove forward to capture his master's pink lips once more. His hand was wrapped in Sam's hair while the other slipped under his shirt. Sam wouldn't let him go below the belt even though his tented jeans made it apparent how much he enjoyed kissing Gabe.

"Gabe." Sam groaned. "We've got class."

"Can't we skip it?" Gabriel whined before catching Sam's bottom lip in his teeth. The startled gasp was incentive enough to tease the fragile skin some more. Gabe nipped it a few more times before moving down from Sam's tempting lips to his scruffy neck. Gabr gave a few more nips and kisses before Sam pushed him off gently. 

"It's Crowley's class. I can't afford to miss it." He reminded Gabe of how dutiful and boring he could be sometimes. Gabriel groaned his annoyance loudly.

"I'd rather stay in bed with you all day." He pouted, his thin lips pursed out. "Before you, I didn't much like my masters' beds." Gabe was matter of fact, but Sam still felt a flash of guilt.

"I'm sorry, Gabe—."

"You're not taking advantage of me, Sam! I chose you." There waS just enough fire in those golden eyes that Sam considered he might be telling the truth. "Tricksters don't change for just anyone." Trickster. That was Gabe's reputation. It's on his paperwork. Crowley had even heard of him. And he gave it up for Sam. It settled Sam to hear Gabriel express that he, in some way, wanted Sam back. Sam leaned over, brushing his lips against Gabriel's in a chaste kiss. Gabe was not ready to hear what Sam wasn't ready to say.

"I'm glad I chose you." That was what Sam said instead, holding his slave tightly. "Now come on." He forced himself to release Gabe. "We have class."

Class was awful as usual, but Crowley didn't pick on them any more than usual. Sam's classmates, however, some of them were not so kind. Class had let out and students and their slaves spilled out on to the green. 

"I gotta pee." Sam handed Gabe his book bag as they walked past a restroom. "Wait for me here."

"You sure you don't me to come in?" Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. "We could finish what we started this morning."

"I'm not getting in trouble at school this close to graduation." Sam laughed. "Ask me in about a semester and a month from now." There was that fondness, that proof that Gabe mattered to Sam. Gabe wasn't used to being looked at like that: it was intoxicating.

"You got it." Gabe winked, clicking his tongue. Sam smiled and ducked inside. 

Gabriel leaned against the wall, closing his eyes to enjoy the warm sunshine upon his skin. It was a gorgeous day. Ever since Sam and Gabe had started kissing, well, Gabe couldn't shake this good mood.

"Hey Gabe, wanna stop by my mom's—." Sam dropped his phone as he rounded out the door. "Gabe?!" Sam tried to hold back the panic as he spotted his book bag a few feet away. Books and papers were spilling out, telling of being dropped. "Gabe!" Sam shouted, hoping, no, praying this was just a trick. His little trickster was just going to pop out of the fucking bushes and laugh at the look on Sam's face. "Gabriel!" Sam picked up his books and papers, shoving them back in his back when he spotted the piece of paper under his bag. His heart rate picked up as he read the messily scrawled note. Shoving the paper in his bag, Sam ran back to his phone and dialed 9-1-1, the words from the note pounding in his head.

"Let me show you what your slave really is for."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...sorry.


	11. Fare Thee Well, Oh Honey, Fare Thee Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for surviving that cliffhanger. I just had too much material for the last chapter. Hopefully this chapter makes up for the last one. :)

It took the police five days to find Gabriel, even after they identified the thief from Stanford's security camera. A rich kid from Sam's class, Brady, had taken Gabe with some friends. Sam watched the feed until a policewoman had the wisdom to move him away from the screen. It wasn't going to help Sam or Gabe to see Gabe kicking and fighting, screaming Sam's name as he was stolen. 

In the end, it was Crowley who helped them locate Gabriel's whereabouts. He had a report Brady had done about an apartment where he and his friends had 'fun' with their slaves. Crowley also reported that Brady would be failing his class for killing two of his own slaves already. Sam was moved to a emergency care slave clinic while the police broke into the unlisted apartment.

"Hello?!" Sam answered his phone, panic tinging his voice.

"Relax, Samuel." Sam didn't think it was possible to be relieved to hear his professor on the other end of the line, but here they were. "They got him out. He's alive."

"And Brady?"

"Rumor has it that he's in Mexico. If he crosses back over, we'll be ready for him." Sam growled in frustration, wanting nothing more than to punch Brady's smug face. He remembered him from class as the guy who fucked his slave on his first day. Sam hated him for even touching Gabe, not even factoring that he had fucking stolen Gabe. Under all that anger though, Sam was scared. He was scared about what had happened to Gabriel, what shape he was in, and how he'd be in the days to come.

It didn't matter though. Sam would be there for him. Sam would take care of Gabe. 

"Thanks." Sam's voice was pinched as he struggled to stay calm. Crowley hung up and so did Sam. He stuffed his phone in his bag and dug out his pills, popping one as he felt the never-ending headache starting to intensify. 

"Mr. Winchester." Sam looked up to see the policewoman from before. "May I sit?" Sam shrugged, not really wanting to talk. "My name is Missouri. I'm glad you're an owner that cares, I really am. But is there someone you can call or I can call for you that can come down and sit with you? You need to take care of yourself." Sam bristled for a moment before his shoulders sagged. He hadn't been taking care of himself. He hadn't showered. He had barely eaten or drunk anything other than what tidbits police officers had given him.

"My slave." Sam sniffled.

"What about your parents, sweetie? I could call your mom or your dad."

"Do not call my fucking dad!" Sam jerked back. "My mom is okay, but my dad cannot know." Sam slumped back against the chair. "Have you heard anything? Is he okay?"

"He'll live, Sam." Missouri stood up, squeezing Sam's shoulder as she passed. "He's going to need a lot of TLC, but it'll be a while before he accepts it. You've got a fighter on your hands."

"Yea." Sam gave her a grim smile. "That's my trickster." He sighed, burying his face in his hands. This, this was all a little too much.

"I'll call your mom." Missouri patted his shoulder again, trying to console him. "I know her from my church group." Sam was so out of it he couldn't even register that Missouri said his mom went to church now. He had thought she was done with all that. Gabriel. Gabe. Gabriel. Gabe. Sam couldn't think about anything else. Just how bad of a condition was his Gabe in?

About an hour later, a nurse came to the waiting area. 

"Mr. Winchester?" Mary squeezed her son's hand before letting go.

"Yea?" Sam extended himself to his full height wearily. The nurse gestured towards the door he had just exited.

"You may see your slave now if you wish. He is back into your custody now, so you can do as you wish. He is under a heavy sedative, so if you want to move him, now would be the best time." 

"How is he?" Sam sighed, blowing out a heavy breath. He just needed Gabriel to be okay. And yet no one had been able to give him an answer regarding Gabriel's actual condition. "No one has told me anything."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Winchester, but you'll need to discuss that with the doctor."

"Of course." Sam heaved a sigh again. His head was pounding, but the pill was helping a little. It was keeping him upright. 

The nurse led Sam to a room towards the back, knocking before he opened the door. "There you are, sir." He nodded before walking away at a brisk pace, back to the nurse's station. Sam took in a breath before stepping through the door. 

Gabe was there, strapped to a hospital bed, asleep. Sam swallowed hard, closing the door behind him. Gabe had an IV hooked up, but that was it. There was bruising on his forehead, a small cut near his hairline. He looked so small, so weak, lying there.

"Gabe?" Sam whispered. "Oh, Gabe, I'm so sorry." He tiptoed over, as if his footsteps could wake Gabriel up. He sat down next to Gabe, holding his hand in his own until the door opened.

"Mr. Winchester, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dr. Singer. Please just call me Bobby."

"Nice to meet you, Bobby." Sam stood to shake his hand. "Thanks for taking care of him." He gestured to Gabriel. 

"All I've done is clean him up and sedate him." Bobby raised his hands. "I know better than to treat a slave without a master's permission." There was a tiredness in Bobby's eyes that spoke of all the things this older man had seen. 

"I've been here for over an hour."

"It took me a long time to get the dosage right. There are drugs in his system I've never seen before."

"Well, it was the rich kid that took him." Sam folded his arms over his chest. 

"You're not from here, are you?" The doctor asked him gruffly, giving Sam's plaid shirt a once over.

"Kansas, originally." Sam relaxed his stance. "You?"

"South Dakota. My assistant says I'm not allowed to wear my trucker hat at work."

"Why come here? There are slaves in South Dakota."

"They're all either ranch and farm slaves or they belong to the oil companies. I might hate the shit I see here, but I'd rather work with masters than corporations. Corporations just see slaves as expendable." Bobby shook his head. "So I came out here."

"I'm here for school." Sam offered. "I bought him as a requirement for a class." He glanced over at Gabriel, his heart clenching at seeing Gabriel in such a subdued state. "Is he okay, Bobby?" The doctor looked Sam over. His years of treating slaves had left him cynical and suspicious of masters, but he was starting to believe the police report that Sam had nothing to do with this. It was a seldom occurrence to have a master that was a victim too.

"He's been through a lot." Bobby sighed. "Whoever took him wasn't kind." This was the hard part, getting into the shit that had happened. The slave had been a wreck when he had first been brought in. He had been screaming at them hoarsely, obscenities and challenges to just 'get it over with.' And then the paperwork came in, classifying the wild slave as a stolen pleasure slave. Bobby didn't even have to look at the slave's body to know what happened. "Like I said, some kind of designer drug in his system; he was extremely dehydrated. That's why I hooked him up to an IV."

"Thank you." Sam nodded. "I appreciate that."

"It gets worse, Sam." Bobby warned. The way Sam covered his face with his hands for a brief second spoke that this master knew that and yet was dreading it. Bobby wasn't sure why but here was just something tragic about this kid. "Your slave was roughed up pretty good, nothing life-threatening though."

"He probably got mouthy." Sam groaned. "Gabe."

"Is that his name?" Bobby asked.

"Yea." Sam flushed. "I don't mind him giving me lip, but I'm not exactly an orthodox master."

"I'm seeing that." Bobby admitted. "He seems like he's lucky to have you." He grimaced slightly before continuing on. "Sam, there's no easy way to tell you this." Bobby hesitated on how exactly to tell the kid. "Gabe, if I can call him that?" Sam nodded. "Gabe was raped repeatedly over the five day period to the point of injury." The world got very quiet after that fact hit Sam's ears. His vision tunneled to the floor and then to Gabe. Why would anyone hurt Gabriel like that? Sam's hands shifted into fists and his jaw clenched. He had half a mind to take a little vacaciones a México to beat the shit out of the bastard who did this. "Sam?" He looked up to see Bobby peering up at him. "I know it's a lot to take in, but you're going to have to be strong for him. He's running on instincts right now, and that's about it. He's wild right now." An expression of pain crossed Sam's face. This was what he had been hoping to avoid when he bought a slave. But then he bought Gabriel and was now more than in. 

"Okay." Sam exhaled a sharp breath. "Okay, you're right." Sam was worried they'd be right back at day one all over again. Gabe wouldn't trust him anymore. Gabe would start lashing out again, and Sam wouldn't be able to blame him. Slavery was worst than Sam had ever imagined. "Can I take him home?" Oh, fuck, this master was attached if those puppy dog eyes were anything to go by. Gabe meant something to him on a personal level, possibly like a lover or something. This was a personal matter. Bobby didn't get involved in those.

"Yea, I'd do it before the sedative wears off. There was one more issue." Bobby stepped over to where Gabe slept a chemically-induced sleep. Bobby folded the blanket up off Gabriel's lower half of his body. Sam covered his mouth with his hand, eyes focusing on the more abused parts of Gabe's body. Below the waist, Gabe was covered in bruises. His thighs, hips, his penis— it was awful, but Sam couldn't look away. "I know, it's colorful." Bobby didn't say that he had seen a lot worse or that Gabe was gotten luckier than most. Most stolen slaves were recovered in a morgue. "What I wanted to ask you about is this chip." Bobby snapped on a pair of gloves and lifted up Gabriel's balls to show a small incision in the skin just below. "A hormone control chip was retrieved. It's illegal, I had to take it out once I was made aware of it."

"I didn't put it in him. I didn't know he had it."

"It's likely no one did except maybe a past master he might have pissed off."

"Sounds about right." Sam tried to make a joke, but he just sounded sad, glancing back down at Gabriel's injuries. "Can you treat him before we leave?" Sam faltered when he saw Gabe's battered hole. He was going to be sick. Bobby pulled down Gabe's blanket as Sam found the small trash can, throwing up what little he had managed to eat. The nurse came back in to help Sam while Bobby worked on Gabriel. There wasn't much he could do, but he did it, even prescribing some medication that he normally wouldn't.

Mary drove Sam and the still unconscious Gabriel back to the apartment. 

"Love you." She kissed Sam's cheek before she left them on their own. "You two will be okay." Gabe was in Sam's bed right now with Sam planning on sleeping on the couch. "Give him time."

"Thanks, mom." Sam gave her a hug. "Love you too."

"Call me if you need anything." She smiled and left. Sam locked the door behind her and collapsed on to the couch. He didn't know what to do. He wouldn't until Gabe woke up, but to be honest, he was at a loss there as well. He fell asleep on the couch soon after, exhaustion catching up to him. Gabe was back. Gabe was safe.

Gabe was pissed. That bastard that had taken him must have forgotten to give him his daily dose of whatever the hell he kept giving him. Gabe hated that drug, hated how he lost control of his limbs whenever the drugs were injected him. It didn't numb anything; it didn't shut him up when he screamed for Sam. Sam wasn't coming and Gabe was forced to realized that none of his previous walls were up. He cried and kicked and fought until more drugs were injected. 

"There's no way Winchester is this small. I bet he doesn't even fuck him." The kid who grabbed Gabe was poking around now that Gabriel couldn't get away. Gabe had forgotten how much it hurt to be taken dry. He had forgotten what it was like to not breathe because his  
throat was being fucked. He should have known things weren't going to last with Sam. Despair had gripped him and Gabe had given up. Then they had just left him after days of hell and hurt. The cops had come and then there was a doctor that Gabe was determined was trying to put him down. Gabe had fought him too until another needle was injected in him.

He had woken up hours later, stiff and sore, but no more drugs. He had to get away. He pushed himself up, and fell, curling up in pain. Gabe hadn't forgotten about what they used him for; he just forgot how badly he had gotten torn up. He took a moment, confused why he was in a bed. These guys were sick fucks. Gabe wouldn't put it past them to try to play 'good master, bad master.' 

Gabriel moved slowly this time, taking far with his injured body. He had worse; he could do this. He could get away before they could inject him again. Gabe made it out of the bedroom, wild eyes glancing around. This apartment was new, but familiar. Gabriel's mind still felt fuzzy from the drugs, but he was pretty sure there was a baseball bat around here somewhere. Gabriel limped over to the small closet, rustling inside until he found the bat. He felt suddenly nauseated when he picked it up, like he was feeling guilty. One of those goons was on the couch and while Gabriel wanted to get out without waking him up, he needed to protect himself in case he did. He should have known they weren't finished with him. He should have known they'd never been satisfied. There had been other slaves there: one of them didn't even survive the first night. Little thing wasn't tough enough to survive.

Gabe was almost to the door when he heard the man on the couch groan. He turned as quickly as he could in his current condition. "Gabe? What are you doing up?" Gabe brandished the bat as the man came closer.

"Don't!" Gabe threatened.

"Are we really doing this again?" The man held out his wrist that looked to be in some kind of cast. "You wanna break the other one or something?" Gabriel hesitated, something about this man was familiar, safe. And the bat and the wrist story only seemed to jog his memory some more. Fuck. The bat clattered on the ground as Gabe reached for the door for support. His body was weaker than he had anticipated. Geez. He was used to abuse, but his time with Sam had softened him... Sam. The man's name was Sam. He wasn't with those bastards. He was back with Sam. Thank the fucking Lord. Gabe's knees buckled and he hit the floor hard. 

"Sam!" He looked up to see his master coming closer. Sam knelt by him, his hand gentle as he helped Gabe up. Gabe reached over and pulled himself to Sam. "Sam." Gabriel couldn't stop the tears as he clung to Sam, his body shivering uncontrollably. He didn't think he'd see his master again. He had been so afraid that Sam had gotten rid of him or, or—no, he couldn't admit to thinking Sam was capable of such evil, not with Sam crying as hard as he was. Gabriel was safe. Gabriel was back with Sam. Gabe was home.


	12. You're Gone but Not Forgot

Gabe woke up startled as he always seemed to wake up now. He was glad however that this time didn't wake Sam. Gabe felt bad each time Sam woke up and worried about him. Speaking of Sam, Gabe eased himself around until he spotted Sam on the other side of the bed.

Gabe wasn't too pissed off at the goons that had stolen him for the physical injuries they gave him. Those were healing. He still limped but he had only been back with Sam for two days. They had an appointment at the slave clinic at the end of the week; Gabriel was hoping his ass would be a non-issue by then. He had worse than those punks. No, what Gabriel was more pissed about was that Sam wouldn't really touch him any more.

Gabriel sighed, easing himself across the bed. He lifted his hand up and pressed his fingers against Sam's broad back. Gabe missed Sam's little touches here and there. He really missed their sleeping arrangements from before this all happened, when Gabe was allowed to wrap himself around Sam because Sam didn't know what a used, dirty hole he was. Gabe was used to feeling used, but he wasn't used to being avoided for it. Steeling his courage, Gabe nestled into the small of Sam's back, pressing his forehead in between Sam's shoulder blades. Gabe needed Sam back, his Sam, not the Sam who couldn't look him in the eyes or touch him for more than a few minutes.

Gabe didn't know how long he lay there, it was only a few minutes before Sam started to turn over. Panic struck and Gabe shrank back as Sam rolled over to face him.

"Morning." Sam gave him a sad smile. Gabe hated sad smiles the most. It made him think that Sam was regretting getting stuck with Gabe but couldn't think of a way to nicely get rid of him. Gabe didn't know that Sam didn't want a used slave. Maybe that was why Sam never fucked Gabe begin with.

"Sorry." Gabe trembled. "I didn't mean to touch you—."

"You were snuggled up there pretty good." Sam gave Gabe look that claimed bullshit. "You're not that stealthy." Sam teased him just a little. Little did Gabe know that Sam missed how things used to be too. Sam blamed himself for all the things that happened to Gabriel.

"I just—." Gabriel clamped his mouth shut as he tried to think of the words. He was frustrated with Sam. He had hoped Sam would be better than those other masters, and he was, Gabe was just disappointed that Sam didn't want him anymore. Gabe hadn't thought Sam would so possessive like that: the 'only I can touch him' kind of master. "I'm sorry I didn't fight him off."

The look on Sam's face was heartbreaking. Sam wanted nothing more than to gather Gabe up in his arms, but he didn't want to trigger his friend, didn't want to make him 'wild.' Gabe needed space and time to heal, and as much as it killed Sam to hold back, he would do just that for Gabe's sake.

"Gabe, you did fight him off. You fought him the whole time." Sam still had nightmares about that security camera feed. "You called for me." Sam's voice broke. "I didn't answer you. I'm the one who should be apologizing." Shit. Fuck. Shoot. Gabe teared up. He wasn't expecting Sam to know about that. He wasn't expecting Sam to apologize. Gabriel didn't want Sam to know how weak he was, crying for Sam the whole time. He wasn't mad at Sam though. Sam did answer him. A little late, but an answer was still an answer, especially when Gabe had already figured that Sam had sold him.

"I'm sorry that you won't be able to get your money back for me when you do sell me." Gabe tried another way. He couldn't figure out why Sam was different towards him if Sam was still technically the same. Maybe it was because Gabriel wasn't worth much. He had been a cheap hole to begin with, but now he had been injured enough to need medical treatment. That was in his paperwork. Gabe was easy taking for anyone now. He was probably worth about a hundred bucks now, factoring in his 'difficult' personality.

"I'm not selling you." Sam looked more upset if possible. Why the fuck was he upset if it wasn't because his slave was cheap and used? "Gabe, what's going on with you?"

"What the fuck is going on with you?" Gabe punched Sam's chest, a light below with just enough force to make him pay attention. 

"What are you talking about?" Great. Now there was a confused puppy in bed with Gabriel. Gabe snapped his mouth shut. "Gabe..." Sam gave him that look. "You gotta tell me what's going on. I don't know what to do anymore. I feel like I'm fucking this all up."

"Because you are!" Gabe didn't know why his own voice was so shrill. He was upset. He just wanted Sam to fucking hold him or fuck him. Gabe needed Sam to make him his. It'd take a great deal of worry off the slave's frantic mind. It sucked to not be in the proper condition to please a master like Sam.

"What do you want me to do? Just tell me and I'll do it!" Sam gestured wildly, his tone matching Gabriel's.

"Fuck me." Gabriel barely believed his own ears as he heard himself calmly request to take another dick up his tender ass. "I want you to fuck me." Gabe needed to know his position was secure with Sam. He needed to know he wasn't going to lose his master.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"I want you to fuck me." They stared each other down, but it was Sam who looked away first. If they had been having this conversation a week ago, maybe, but not after...

"You were just raped!"

"No, I was just used." Gabe countered. "And I'm sorry if that bothers you—."

"Of course, it bothers me! Some asshole held you down and forced you!"

"You can't force a sex slave to have sex." Gabe scoffed, sounding a lot more confident than he felt. Those assholes did rape him, but that was only because they didn't have Sam's permission. Gabe felt bad for ever thinking that Sam did give them permission. "My point is, I don't want to please random strangers," he jabbed a finger into Sam's chest, "I want to please you."

"And I have to fuck you for you to get it through your thick skull that you're not going anywhere?" That was a weary sigh from Sam. Gabe had almost gotten him worn down.

"Basically." He chirped with a welcoming smile. Sam shook his head.

"You won't even let me touch you." Gabe rolled his eyes and grabbed on to Sam, dragging himself closer. He moved slowly, mostly to keep Sam from barking 'careful!' at him before sitting on top of Sam's stomach.

"I have no qualms about touching you." Gabe pressed his hands down on Sam's shoulders. He was a little disappointed about Sam's t-shirt being in the way. He'd rather be pressing his palms against Sam's warm skin and carved muscles. His master was attractive. Still, he slid his hands down Sam's arms and then back up to his shoulders. He traced over Sam's chest, an idle drawing as their eyes met again. Sam's hands came up to rest against Gabriel's knees: soft touches like he thought Gabriel would break if he pressed any harder.

"Gabe, I don't think this is the best idea you've ever had."

"I'm not broken, Sam, it'll be fun!"

"I'm not having sex with you, Gabe, not until you've healed and not until it's something you really want."

"I want it." Gabe pressed down a little hard on Sam's chest, scooting back so he was straddling Sam's hips now. 

"Wanting it for security and wanting it because we l-love each other are two different things." Sam warned, his hands rising a little higher. Gabe wanted to flinch, he wanted to scoot off of Sam and curl up, but he had Sam on the ropes. He just needed to convince him a little bit more and Sam would be... What would Sam be? Like everyone else Gabe had met since becoming a slave? Sam would just be another person who saw nothing but Gabe's holes.

Gabriel wasn't so sure if that was what he wanted anymore. He shivered, tears welling up in his eyes as he fell off of Sam and crawled over to his side of the bed. Curling up under the covers, he let his tears of mortification and frustration freely fall. "Gabe, what's wrong?" Sam settled behind him. "Can I touch you?"

"I don't know. Can you?" Gabe had to be a brat, even if he was a sniveling coward of a brat. He had been so close. 

"You know I wasn't going to actually sleep with you today, right?"

"What?" Gabe croaked, leaning over to face Sam. He managed to look offended even with his cheeks red and blotchy from crying. 

"You're not ready. And it's okay, if you never are." Sam whispered. Gabe turned his head sharply, glaring at the wall. He wasn't weak. "I'm going to class." Sam leaned over him for a brief moment, placing a gossamer kiss on Gabe's cheek. "I'm proud of you for recognizing your limits." 

"Humph." Gabriel didn't turn around until Sam left the apartment. It was almost ironic how Gabe had loved being alone when he belonged to other masters, but with Sam it was the worst punishment. He missed Sam when he was gone. And worst of all, he was afraid when Sam was gone, afraid someone would take him and afraid Sam wouldn't come back.

Gabe rolled out of bed an hour later, getting a glass of water before trudging over to the couch. He was cocooned in Sam's comforter, lying to his brain that Sam was there, that Sam still wanted him. He clicked on the tv, hoping for a good soap program. Sam only got local channels, but they usually had good enough programming to keep Gabe occupied, or at least get him to stop worrying. 

Gabe sighed when he saw his normal show was being taken over by some urgent news at some local college: Stanford. That trickle of worry grew as Gabe remembered that was where Sam went. The camera crews showed an enormous crowd of people like a python, surrounding and swallowing the school whole so that no face stood out. 

"Famous abolitionist storms campus after recent slave-napping fiasco." Was one headline. The other news channel had this quote:

"Ellen Harvelle, renowned Harvard professor and abolitionist, takes on Stanford with thousands of supporters. They're protesting slavery in general, but this rally follows the release of Ellen's adopted son's tell-all book 'Saving Gabe.' Is it a good marketing technique or a true cry for help to find Castiel Shutley's long lost brother? He's already offering a ten thousand reward for his brother's whereabouts. We'll have more at twelve." Click. Gabe shut the tv off with a trembling hand. He gingerly made his way to the bathroom where he dry heaved for a good five minutes. What had Cassie done?

Sam found Gabe half an hour later, still clinging to the porcelain toilet.

"You okay?" Sam asked as he washed Gabe's face and hands, changed his clothes, and wrapped him back up in the comforter. "You want to watch a movie instead of the news?" Gabe nodded, still unable to speak. He had tried to forget his past and his life before slavery. Most slaves did, but for some reason, Gabriel never had been able to block those memories. He had to hope Sam never saw the book because Gabe didn't think he'd ever be able to leave Sam.


	13. I Don't Want To Fall In Love

Gabe wasn't comfortable being what he referred to as 'needy.' Needy slaves may get their masters' attention, but at what cost? Gabe wasn't like those kinds of slaves: Gabe was tough. Gabe could take care of himself. And then he woke up one morning, a few days after the 'fuck me' fiasco with one of Sam's giant arms wrapped around him.

"Finally." He grunted, just loud enough to hear and burrowed in against Sam's chest before Sam could turn away or apologize. Sam's heart broke a little to realize that this was what Gabe had really wanted. They lived in a nasty, awful world if Gabe thought he had to asked to be fucked to get what he really wanted: Gabe had just wanted to be held by Sam.

"Gabe, if this was what you wanted, you could just ask." Sam murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of Gabe's head. "I would have listened." There was silence, Sam thought maybe Gabe had already fallen asleep, when Gabe did reply.

"I'm trying to sleep."

"Gabriel." Sam needed his friend to know that this was okay. "I like holding you."

"Slaves aren't supposed to be needy." Gabriel muttered so fast that it was hard to understand.

"What?" Gabriel pulled his head back and glared.

"Slaves aren't supposed to be needy." He recited sullenly, taking care to enunciate each and every syllable. 

"Since when do I give a shit about how you're supposed to act?"

"You should." Gabe calmed down some, nestling back against Sam's chest. "If they knew how we were..." He trailed off. "Just be careful. We're not boyfriends or anything."

"We might as well be." Sam rolled his eyes even though that comment had hurt. Gabe barked out a laugh before he leaned into Sam some more, lips moving against Sam's chest. 

"Yea." Gabe didn't have the words Sam wanted to hear. He had picked up on the fact his master wanted more, but Gabe had assumed it was about sex. No, his master had gone ahead and developed feelings for his slave. Gabriel had heard horror stories about slaves and masters that had developed relationships: it never ended well. The slave always got the worst of it too. Gabe almost wished Sam was just playing a game with him, it'd be safer. Gabe didn't want to see Sam get hurt. He didn't want Sam to lose anyone else.

Maybe that was why he hadn't brought up Castiel or Ellen. Sure, Sam knew about the riots and the connection between the activist and the author, but he didn't know about their connection to Gabriel. Gabriel didn't want Sam to know because Sam would want to do something. Sam would want to 'make it better.' Gabe was pretty sure that this was the one thing Sam couldn't make better. God, why was he so fucking moody all the time? Gabe nestled in more, sighing in content when Sam's arm tightened around him. He either needed to stop encouraging Sam or he needed to encourage him some more that he was on board with this whole thing. 

If Gabriel didn't encourage Sam, Sam might start using him what he was actually for. It couldn't be that hard to pretend to have feelings for Sam in return. Gabe was used to faking orgasms, masters never checked for his release as long as he moaned and panted and screamed. How hard could it be? It was with all these thoughts running around in his head that Gabe drifted back to sleep.

Gabe was up before Sam was. He took a moment to stretch before pressing up against Sam.

"Morning." Sam grunted as he started to wake up, Gabe's hands were wandering over him. He didn't stray below Sam's waist, just familiarizing himself, cataloging the places that made Sam's breath hitch or his muscles quiver. "Just what are you up to?"

"I'll do it." Gabe whispered, twining his arms around Sam's neck. 

"Do what? Be suddenly very creepy?" Sam laughed, trying to unwrap Gabe's arms. "Seriously, let me go."

"I'll be more." Gabe lifted his shoulder. "Be your boyfriend or whatever."

"I don't remember asking you to be my boyfriend." But Sam was grinning despite himself and trying to hide it.

"I'm not hearing a no." Gabe cocked his head, loosening his arms. Sam didn't break free though, pushing forward, pressing his forehead against Gabe's.

"Do you mean it?" Gabe wasn't expecting Sam to be breathless. This was harder than Gabriel expected. He couldn't lie to Sam like this. But then... well, maybe it wasn't lying if there was a possibility he could return those feelings with time. He needed time, Gabe needed time to tell him that this wasn't a trick, that all this with Sam was real. "I'll take it slow, I promise." Sam's eyes were wide and pleading as he drew back to gauge Gabe's reaction. "I know you think I'm an idiot, but I'm going to free you and do right by you whether you say yes or no. You're my best friend either way."

"I don't think you're an idiot." Gabe leaned in and brushed his lips against Sam's. "I wouldn't give this a shot if I thought you were an idiot." Gabe was shaking a little. He was terrified by the fact he actually felt like he had a choice. Even more frightening was the fact he was choosing this of his own free will.

"We'll go slow." Sam promised in a hushed voice, hugging Gabe like he was something special, like he wasn't some overused, overworked sex slave past his prime. Gabe nodded, hiding his tears in Sam's shoulder. He'd let Sam set the pace. He'd been trying to force things he didn't want for too long. Gabe found himself trusting Sam a little more. "I'll go make us some breakfast and then we'll go see Bobby."

"Bobby? Who's Bobby?" Gabe gave Sam a suspicious look as he rolled

"The doctor at the clinic who patched you up."

"That bastard who was trying to put me down?"

"He sedated you so you wouldn't hurt anyone or yourself. He wasn't going to put you down. They called me as soon as they got you out of that awful place." Sam was still sore about what had happened to Gabriel. It didn’t help that Brady and his friends were getting away with the whole thing. The only thing that this situation was costing Brady was that he failed Crowley’s class.

"I've had worse." Gabe shrugged. He didn’t mean to be cavalier about the situation. It had just been his reality before Sam, but as it turned out, that, that was the wrong thing to say.

"It's still not okay!" Sam threw back the covers. “That bastard is getting away with everything and we’re left to pick up the pieces.” Gabe shrank back, stung by Sam’s words. Sam thought he was broken. 

Sam stalked into the kitchen, wiping his face roughly. He didn’t mean to lose his cool. He was supposed to be strong for Gabe, not put his shit on him. “Fuck!” Sam slammed the fridge door, making the fridge shake. He cracked the eggs off the side of the bowl that he grabbed from the cupboard, slamming the cupboard door for extra release. Whisking, he accidentally spilled some egg of the linoleum. “Shit.” The bowl clattered, sliding across the counter into the wall as Sam shoved it on to the counter. Grabbing a towel, he leaned over and swiped up the mess, before crashing on to his elbows, leaning over the sink, breathing hard. What had his life become? Gabe had made everything so much better and Sam was ruining it all over again.

Gabe was still in the bedroom, mind racing as he tried to figure out what to do to make Sam forget how broken he was. Gabe hated how broken he was. He hated that Sam knew it too; he hated that Sam reminded him of his fragility. Gabe was still as desperate for control as he was that first day when that old man had smiled down at him gasping on the floor, hands gripping at the shock collar. “I’m sorry.” Gabe looked up in shock from where he was bent over the bed, pulling the sheets up in place. He grabbed the pillows off the floor, plumping them up before placing them back on to the bed. “Stop.” Sam grabbed his hands. “Look at me.”

“Is that an order?” Gabe obeyed in time to see Sam flinch.

“I’m sorry, okay?! I shouldn’t have put my shit on you. I’m supposed to be strong for you!”

“No, you aren’t.” Gabe scoffed, pulling away. Sam let his hands fall free. “I’m your slave. You’re not supposed to do anything but put me to work.”

“You’re more than that.” Sam stared at him sadly as Gabe went back to making their bed. 

“No.” Gabe shook his head. Sam’s face broke and he grabbed Gabe again, pulling him into his chest. Gabe put his hands against Sam’s chest, ready to resist, ready to fight in case his master tried anything funny. It took him a moment to remember this was Sam. Sam wasn’t like that. Gabe crumpled, arms falling to his sides as Sam hugged him fiercely.

“You’re more, Gabe, you’re more to me.”

“Yea, yea.” Gabe muttered. “You don’t have to say nice shit like that. I’m yours.” Sam winced and Gabe stammered, trying to convey what he really meant. “I mean, I’m yours, yours, like the kind you can’t buy, like we said we’d try and take slow?” Sam huffed something between a laugh and a sob, pulling Gabe back into another tight hug. This time Gabe wrapped his hands into Sam’s shirt, the closest he’d let himself get to hugging Sam back.

“I hope that’s not as romantic as you get.” And they both had to laugh at that.

“We’re a mess.” Gabe bobbed his head in agreement. “But what I want to know is where my promised breakfast is.” Sam shot Gabe a grateful look before ruffling Gabe’s messy bedhead.

“Right this way, boyfriend.” Sam’s smile was so proud that it spawned fucking butterflies in Gabe’s stomach, specifically blue, purple, and pink ones that Gabe couldn’t squash even if he wanted to.

“Oh, god.” Gabe groaned, hiding his own pleased reaction. He was trusting Sam an awful lot going along with this, but he wasn’t trusting Sam with his fuzzy feelings any time soon. He was doing this for Sam, that’s all his master needed to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel kinda weird about this chapter, but i feel kinda weird about everything right now.   
> things are going to start happening, and i wanted the boys to have a few nice days to work on their awful communication.
> 
> thank you guys for all the kudos and comments. i love them, they inspire me to keep writing. so yea, thanks again. <3


	14. Send My Love to Your New Lover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: implied rape, sub-drop.
> 
> Also, I wanted to check in on you guys and see if everyone is doing all right after that awful, awful shooting in Orlando. I hope you all are okay. <3

Time passed as it always did when things in Sam's life were coming together.The funny part was that nothing was coming together except for Sam's relationship with Gabe. It was weird, being happy. It was oddly addicting but also terrifying in that any moment it could be ripped away.

For instance, Sam was out a job now. Pam had closed for those few days to participate in the anti-slavery protest, but then the riots spread, swelling to a frenzied height no one could have foreseen. The Starbucks was looted and burned, leaving Pam with a good chunk of insurance money, but no coffeeshop. Sam was out of work for the time being. He couldn't even throw himself into his schoolwork to distract himself. The riots had kept classes from resuming and what had originally been a small vacation was turning into the end of the semester fast.

Gabe didn't know how to help Sam with his worries about failing the semester other than offering a blow job. It wouldn't help much, but Sam's headache would be better and he wouldn't be thinking so hard about how not finishing the semester would affect his future. Gabe knew Sam preferred to just hold him, but some how blow job offers made Sam laugh. Gabe's blood test had come back clean... Gabe wasn't sure why Sam wasn't using him, but even more worrisome was that Gabe didn't care all that much.

So it made perfect sense to Gabe to log in to Sam's email account (he never logged out on his laptop) and contact the professors from Sam's classes about some other arrangement regarding grades and classes. Sam would never need to know. Gabe knew his way around a little black market sex slave deals. Though he was dealing with some big time players, these professors, so Gabe made it as legal as possible, even getting Sam to sign a release form for his services. Sam didn't know what he was signing, didn't proofread when Gabe asked him to sign documents. 

"Can you sign these?" Gabe tossed the papers down casually. Sam squinted up at him from where he was working on a case assignment, frantically trying to make up enough work. 

Sam had contacted his professors as well, asking for as much make-up work possible to pass the classes with good grades. They had kindly obliged, but now he was stressed to the max.

"Why?"

"In case you give yourself a freaking aneurysm with all this studying and stressing." Gabe leaned over Sam's shoulder and kissed his cheek. "So I can go for help if I need to without getting in trouble." A new law had passed about slaves wandering without their masters. "I don't wanna go to the pound." Gabe made his voice drop low as he nosed Sam's ear. Sam looked up at him, eyes zeroing in on Gabe's lips. Gabe leaned in, obliging his master, his boyfriend.

"You're the sweetest." Sam breathed. He signed the papers and handed them over to Gabe. "I don't know what I would do without you." He turned and nuzzled into Gabe's stomach. Gabe laughed for ticklish reasons and to hide the twinge of guilt. Why did he feel bad? He was doing this for Sam. He was taking care of Sam the only way he knew how. Gabe knew Sam was worried about his future and school. Gabe knew Sam's last paycheck was just about gone. Squashing the guilt down, he ran his hands through Sam's thick hair, tilting his boyfriend's face up so he could kiss him again, papers rustling against Sam's cheek.

"Ditto, kiddo." He smiled, crinkles at the corners of his golden eyes. Sam deserved so much better than Gabe, than this apartment, than all the grief he had faced. Maybe when he was free, Gabe would find a way to help Sam like Sam had helped Gabe. It was why he had added a small fee for his services as well as Sam's assured pass and good grades; but only from the professors who were really interested. Kinky bastards. So Gabe waited until Sam went out to a job interview or two and high-tailed it to each of his 'clients' ' houses.

It wasn't safe for a slave to be out, not with pro-slavery and anti-slavery supporters clashing on the tv. The riots were slowly dying out, but Gabe could still be snatched up by some stupid, well-meaning person. Gabe kept his head down and slave id bracelet hidden. It took a week, a week of snooping and sliding into shadows, but Gabe did it.

He was leaving the last house, precious cash tucked in the waistband of his underwear where no one could see it. The last professor had been a more intense than others, demanding much more from the others. He had dominated every last bit of Gabe... Gabe felt shaky and teary. His body had decided to work again, and of course, his dick sprang to life when an asshole was roughing him, tormenting him. Gabe charged way extra for that scene. The professor left marks, left Gabe's body feeling like it was on fire. Raped. Filthy. Unworthy. Dirty Slave. Used Hole. Gabe's mind was getting as creative as the professor Gabe had just left. It was sub-drop. Gabe knew he was experiencing it, just masters liked to pretend it didn't happen to slaves. As if Gabe's body and mind would react any differently just because he had an id number and a collar.

Yea... Having lived as a freeman for twenty-six years had made the life adjustment just a little difficult.

Gabe limped towards the gate of the neighborhood, trying not to draw any extra attention to himself. He'd get past the guard and run like hell until he made it back to Sam's apartment. It wasn't a good plan or even a easy plan. Sam's place was halfway across the city and Gabe's ass and body hurt. He'd be lucky to make it back before nightfall.

"Gabriel!" Gabe's head jerked up to see said boyfriend/master glaring at him through the bars. Sam turned to the guard. "That's him, that's my slave." Sam shot the man an accusatory look and the guy shrugged.

"He had papers." Sam was sharp, that one. Gabe knew the instant those puppy dog eyes latched on him that Sam had figured him out.

"How could you?! You got me to sign papers so you could go cheat on me?!" Wait. What? Okay, Sam might not be as smart as originally thought. But Gabe was struggling to hold himself together as it was. Sam hated him. Sam thought Gabe had cheated on him. Technically, yea, but Gabe would never had done this if it wasn't for Sam. Gabe didn't even like sex.

"What is going on here?" Sam glanced over to see Crowley on the other side of the fence as well. 

"Did he let you fuck him too?" Sam clenched his hands into fists, the venom in his voice was unmistakable. Gabe hung his head. Sam hated him. Sam hated him. Sam hated him. Samwise going to sell him. He should never gotten involved with a master. He had only done this because he cared for Sam, he liked Sam, he'd do anything for Sam! Gabe just wanted Sam to not have to worry so much. 

Gabe sniffled and a fat, alligator tear rolled down his cheek.

"You alright?" Crowley asked Gabe in a soft voice. "Something's off about you."

"Sub-drop." Gabe mumbled.

"Ah." Crowley nodded towards the guard. "Come in, Samantha." Well, at least it wasn't being called Samuel. "There's a riot headed our way. You two will be safer behind a wall. I heard the National Guard was finally called in.

"Hey." An Asian man younger than Sam greeted them as they walked through the door. "What's up? I'm Kevin." Sam scrutinized him for any sign of slavery, but he couldn't find one.

"I see you already met the wife." Crowley leaned over and gave Kevin a quick kiss. "I'm going to draw up a bath. Little one is going into sub-drop." That was news to Sam who turned quickly and stared examining Gabe.

"What's that? Is he okay? Are you okay?" Sam reached out to grab Gabe's shoulder.

"I'm fine." Gabe tried to push him away. His walls were back up. His defenses were fully functional. He needed to know how to defend himself once he got back to Mr. Tran's.

"Gabe..."

"Can you two do that in here?" Kevin interrupted, waving them towards an private room. "Crowley's already started the bath, strip to your boxers both of you, and get in. Sub-drop means, Sam, that you need to stow your shit and take care of him. Hold him, assure him, let him know he's safe and that you love him."

"Uh." 

"Or whatever. If you were in my husband's class, I know you can understand the words coming out of my mouth." Kevin shut the door very firmly behind him, leaving the two of them standing in a huge, ornate bathroom, awkwardly shifting on the tan tiles. 

"Gabe?" Sam's voice was quiet, not angry, confused, but no longer angry. "What's going on?"

"Don't want you to worry." Gabe lapsed into his old way of speaking. He wasn't important. He wasn't worthy of Sam's attention or affection. He shouldn't talk about himself. Slave. Slave. Worthless. Slave.

"Well, I'm worried." Right. Gabe hadn't given him the money. Sam didn't know about the money. Sam didn't know he didn't have to worry about money for a little while longer.

"Fixed your grades." Gabe reached down his pants and found the roll of money. "You don't have to worry about bills." He shoved the money into Sam's hands, staggering back a few steps.

"Are you– are you saying you did t-this for me?"

"Do anything for Sam." Gabe blinked. His eyelids felt so heavy. He felt like he might fall asleep on his feet if he didn't feel so wretched inside. Dirty. Used. Sam didn't want him anymore.

"I don't know what to do with you." Sam whispered, feeling like the scum of the earth, not noticing how Gabe flinched. Gabe had never given him any reason to doubt him, minus maybe the lying and sneaking around. Sam had been expecting things to fall apart and he had assumed the worst when he had gotten an odd email from one of his professors that stated she wanted to change the stipulation that she couldn't leave a mark on his slave. The offer to pay extra was really what tipped him off. "You don't have to sacrifice so much for me."

Gabe was confused by the mixed emotions in Sam's voice. He didn't have the energy to explain anymore. He didn't have the strength to figure out what Sam wanted from him. Gabe just wanted to lie down and die if that was at all possible.

Crowley peeked in from the other entrance.

"All right, you two." He wandered in. "Clothes off. Bath's ready." 

"What's a sub-drop, Crowley? What do I do?" Sam asked. Gabe recognized that tone, recognized the anxiety behind it. Great. He was making freak out. Sam didn't want to touch his dirty slave, his cheating boyfriend. Gabe's chest hurt really bad now. He reached up and clawed at his chest.

"Hold him." Crowley snorted. "Get him off his feet before he collapses. Let him know how important he is." Sam hesitated, not wanting Crowley to know how close they were. "I've seen how you look at him, Sam. I've seen how he looks at you. It's how I look at my bloody husband when no one's around. Now take care of him."

"Clean." Gabe whispered. "Gotta get clean." 

"Come on." Crowley pulled Gabe over to a shower. "I'll clean him up a bit, help him with his mindset while you strip. Keep your boxers on though. The last thing he needs is to think you want sex."

"We haven't even had sex." Sam snorted. "How did you know where we were?"

"I got the email from him and turned him down. I keep tabs on the other professors." Crowley shrugged as he helped Gabe out of his clothes. He turned the water on warm before spraying Gabe down before putting the shower head up. He soaped up a washcloth and scrubbed Gabe down, leaving no place unscrubbed. "Better?" Gabe nodded, leaning on Crowley for support. Sam was waiting by the giant tub in just his boxers, nervous. It was weird being mostly naked in front of his professor, especially knowing he was a famous slave trader. It was even weirder when he was staging some sort of intervention for Sam and Gabe.

"What's going on?" Sam was so lost and worried. Gabe looked like shit. Sam wanted to make it better, but he didn't know how.

"Imagine every bad thought you've ever had about yourself suddenly combined with every bad thing everyone has ever said about you. They are magnified and multiples by infinity, getting deeper and more lost within yourself with every minute." 

"And it's caused by sex?" 

"Not exactly, no." Crowley had to smile. "I'll explain after when Gabe isn't about to go crazy. You're the best person to take care of him: let him know how good he is, how safe he is." Crowley stepped out for a moment and returned with two fluffy robes. "For after. And if he naps even better. Get things sorted out because I have someone who wants to meet you tonight and you two haven't made up by then, you might lose him." 

Sam stepped forward to take Crowley's place in supporting Gabe. Gabe all but collapsed as soon as Sam touched him, falling against Sam's chest.

"Sorry." Gabe murmured against Sam's warm skin. "Didn't mean to gross you out. Understand that you don't want me. It's okay. You deserve better."

"Shh." Sam soothed, rubbing Gabe's back, taking care to not touch the welts riddled across Gabe's soft skin. Crowley gave Sam a look before taking his leave. Sam and Gabe had to figure this shit out on their own. "I want you, Gabe, I want you. I'm never gonna get rid of you." Sam sat on the side of the rub, supporting Gabe's almost dead weight, trying to figure out how to get them both in the tub. 

Sam maneuvered his legs in and then Gabe's. He slowly slid down to sit in the warm with just enough of the sharpness of hot to make them both moan slightly. Sam arranged Gabe in his arms, so Gabe was straddling his lap, leaning against his chest. "You're not going anywhere, baby. You're the one who is too good for me." He kept whispering reassurances in Gabe's ear until Gabe fell asleep. Sam held him a little while longer until the water cooled. One of Crowley's slaves appeared at that time and took Gabe, so Sam could get out and change out of the wet boxers into the dry robe. Then they both dried Gabe and wrapped him up in his robe. Sam carried Gabe, following the slave into a huge guest room where Sam tucked Gabe in and crawled in after him.

"I'll return to wake you for dinner in a few hours." Sam grunted as the slave closed the door, too exhausted to feel as guilty as he felt he should.


	15. Go Back Home

Sam woke up before the servant returned, getting out of bed once he checked to make sure Gabe was still fast asleep. He didn't know how to deal with all the information being thrown at him. Sam didn't feel like he could keep up. How had he been so worried about his school and work that he didn't even notice what Gabe was up to? On top of that, Sam felt guilty. Gabe shouldn't have had to take all of that on. Sam just wanted to wrap Gabe up and keep him safe, yet it was concern for Sam that had Gabe selling himself.

Sam pulled on the clothes that had been laid out for him next to the clothes folded up for Gabriel. Sam sneaked down the hallway and found the door to the outside that he could quickly stepping out into a private courtyard. He just needed to get away, to stay calm. The courtyard was small compared to the rest of the house, leafy plants and colorful flowers all around. Here Sam felt free to pace as he tried to sort through his thoughts.

Gabe had a heart of gold, that was for sure. How could Sam let things go this far? He didn't know what to do. Gabe really hadn't done anything wrong now that Sam knew what was going on. He couldn't blame Gabe, couldn't be mad at him. Sam felt like a giant asshole and had no way to rectify that with himself.

Gabriel deserved better than Sam.

Before Sam knew how much time he had spent outside, a slave summoned him to join the rest in the dining room. Sam was already intimidated by his professor, but the view of his house was making it worst. The dining room was large and stunning, sparkling reddish white marble floors, tall ceilings, mahogany table and chairs. Slaves stood along the walls, waiting to be beckoned or for the time to complete their task. One stepped forward to show Sam his seat across from Gabe.

Gabe looked good if not uncomfortable in the new clothes from Crowley and Kevin. He didn't look up as Sam sat down, his seat pushed in by the slave behind his chair.

"Nice of you to join us, Samantha." Crowley snarked over a glass of bourbon. "We're waiting for one more and then dinner will be served." Sam glanced at him nervously, but Crowley was already nursing his beverage, lost in his own thoughts. Kevin caught his eye, giving him a reassuring smile. Sam dared to peek over across the table, Gabriel sullenly staring through him. "Ah." Crowley glanced up as the double doors that Sam had just entered through entered again. A woman that Sam didn't fully recognize and that Gabriel did completely stepped in, looking around as if looking for a fight. 

Sam just noticed the gun holstered on her hip. He tensed, spine straightening as years of living with an absolute father/Marine had drilled into him. "This is the young man I was telling you about, Ellen, Sam Winchester." Sam didn't like that Ellen had to drag her eyes away from Gabriel to glance at him for half a second before her eyes flicked back to his boyfriend. Ellen's gaze was practically boring a hole into Gabe's skull while Gabe looked down at the floor like he was wishing it would swallow him whole. "And this is his slave." Crowley stressed the possessive firmly.

"How much?" Ellen was looking at Sam now, glaring, if he was being honest. Gabe slumped in his seat, sliding down in his chair. This was it. Sam was going to get rid of him. Ellen could pay 100x what Sam paid originally. It was weird. The moment Gabriel was sure Sam was getting rid of him, even though it was to someone safe, Gabriel knew he didn't want to go. He loved Sam.

"He's not for sale." Gabe glanced up in surprise, one part surprised at the steel in Sam's voice and the other part surprised that Sam still wanted him. He glanced over at Ellen, noting the set in her jaw and the twitch in her fingers.

"I'll pay anything." She raised her eyebrows. "Come on, you have to have a price. You're a college kid, you have debts, a missing brother..." Sam cut her off there, officially pissed off.

"He's not for sale." Sam ground out through gritted teeth. "An abolitionist as famous as yourself should know to not go after someone missing their family due to slavery."

"Not when it's my family we are squabbling over." Sam's eyes widened and he glanced over at Gabe. He didn't feel so confident claiming Gabe anymore if Gabe's family was here to take him home.

"I'm right here." Gabe gave a little wave, deciding to wade in to this clusterfuck. "Hi to you too, 'Mom.'" He dragged out that last, one syllable word with a roll of his eyes. Yes, he was acting up, but he didn't like all this tension. The one thing Gabriel hated the most was people he loved fighting. 

"She's your mom?!" Sam was not expecting that bombshell. Thankfully, the slaves took that as a cue to serve dinner, Crowley and Kevin enjoying the drama unfolding at their table.

"It's only fair you meet her since I met yours." Gabe shrugged, grabbing the glass of wine that a slave had poured. He gulped the dark liquid down, needing courage to finish this conversation. "Your mom is kinky." He looked over at Crowley pointedly who choked on his drink. Kevin giggled, and Ellen even smirked.

"You've met that monster?"

"She was one of his teachers back in a New York. God, that woman was a witch." Ellen spoke up. "Feels like that was a long time ago."

"Maybe because it was." Gabriel countered. "Memory lane is closed, Ellen."

"You can't blame me for trying." Ellen shrugged, pulling out a chair and waving away the slave who hurried forward to help her. She planted herself in the chair like a mighty tree that wouldn't be moved. Sam was drawn to her despite his initial reaction to meeting her. She glanced his way. "Tell me about yourself, Sam."

"You mean you don't have a file on him?" Gabriel leaned forward. Ellen snapped her head over, barely contained anger in her eyes. Below the anger though, Sam saw the hurt. 

"Gabe..." Sam warned.

"So you're one of those then, huh? One of those slave want nothing to do with the people who actually love them?!" That barb was directed at Sam, oh, so pointedly. Gabriel bristled. He took another gulp of wine, making a face as he swallowed it down. He hadn't drank in a long time. He was already getting a slight buzz. 

"It took you twelve years to find me." Gabe snorted. "I'm safe with Sam. He adores me for some ridiculous reason even though I'm technically worthless, so yea I'm going to stay with him."

"Come back with me!" Ellen entreated. "You could go back to New York! Back to your life! Back to your music!"

"Music?" Sam looked back and forth from Ellen to Gabriel. "You're into music? I thought you only liked this shitty pop songs?" He didn't speak up about how Gabe was so much more than worthless.

"If I remember correctly, you sing those songs right along with me." Gabe raised his eyebrows, soothed by the familiar teasing between them. He could acknowledge that he had overreacted earlier. Gabe blamed the sub drop for most of it. He was sticking with Sam, hell yea. 

"Yea." Sam blushed. "Yea, I do." He looked across the table with a fondness that everyone could see. Ellen sighed and pushed food around on her plate.

"I can see I'm getting no where with trying to convince you to come with me." She said to Gabe who nodded. "It is good to see you. I've been working with this prick for years, trying to find you." She thumbed towards Crowley. 

"Congratulations." Gabriel widened his eyes in an expression of mock-excitement, but his shoulders deflated. "It is good to see you too, Ellen." Gabe ground out. He didn't know why it was so hard to admit that. He had thought of his family every single day until it became too painful to remember them. Even then, Gabe could never really forget; he could only just ignore for so long.

"Are you okay?" She asked, meeting his eyes fully. 

"I'm okay." Gabe nodded, glancing up to meet her gaze. He looked over meaningfully at Sam. "I'm okay now." He ducked his head down. He kicked his foot out, finding Sam's long legs under the table. He just needed that grounding that came from physically touching Sam. "I'm okay." He said under his breath. Sam's foot brushed against his ankle and Gabe heaved a sigh of relief. He was still insecure, but he was also just a little more sure of his choice.

"He treats you right?"

"Yea."

"You're happy?"

"Yea." Sam scoffed slightly.

"Really?" He leaned forward. "How the hell are you happy with me after all the shit that's been going on?" Gabe smiled, sliding his foot against Sam's leg, brushing upward. 

"After the shit I've seen, being with you is- is heaven. Sue me for being cheesy." He shrugged before downing the rest of his wine. Gabe stood up, shoving his chair back. "Now if you excuse me, I don't want to be here anymore. Can we go home?" He looked to Sam who hesitated before nodding, standing up too.

"Thank you for everything." Sam addressed Crowley and Kevin. "Uh, nice to meet you." He stammered at Ellen. 

"I'll be in touch." Ellen grabbed her wine. Crowley lifted his glass and Kevin smiled. 

"Oookay." Sam stepped away from the table, grabbing Gabriel's hand as they headed towards the door. "See you all around." A slave showed them the way out, handing them a bag of their clothes.

"More than you know." Crowley muttered. "Can't we leave them out of all this?"

"They know we're connected, Crowley. We have to protect ourselves more than ever with all these new laws being passed. If anyone knew how deep this all goes..." Ellen shook her head. "It'll be hell for our cause."


	16. No Broken Hearts

"How come?" Gabe glanced up from where he had been hugging his knees to his chest. The bus bumped and jostled down the road, knocking them into each other.

"How come what?" Gabe wrinkled his nose at Sam. He'd been on edge since leaving Crowley's, they both had.

"Gabe, that was your mom back there. Why are you back on a crappy city bus with me, wearing that stupid slave bracelet. You can't want to be a slave."

"I don't, but you said you'd free me."

"That could take years: I barely have enough money to give you a place to sleep." Neither of them brought up the money Gabriel acquired that was shoved in Sam's wallet. Just because he was practical did not mean he was anywhere close to be okay with what Gabriel had done. Gabriel was his! Sam needed to protect him, to take care of him.

"Sam, do you not want me?" Sam shook his head.

"I didn't say that."

"Say what you do want, please." Gabe put his hand on Sam's knee, leaning against him. "It's hard figuring out what you want from me when you question my decision."

"It's just, family is family. You didn't want to go with your mom, that much was clear. Why? Did she sell you? Or hit you? Or was it because you're a slave?" Gabriel wasn't expecting that to hurt, hearing his title from Sam's lips. He hadn't felt like a slave with Sam; he didn't want to feel like a slave with Sam. He reached up and grabbed the ends of his hair, pulling hard.

"Ellen helped my brother and I out of a bad situation and then adopted us." Gabriel revealed. "She'd never hurt me. You're right though. I don't want her seeing me like this. I don't want any of them seeing me like this: it'd break their hearts. They'd treat me like I'm broken for the rest of my life."

"Dean..." Sam blinked back tears. "You think Dean feels that way too?"

"Probably." Gabe settled his feet on the floor as Sam reached over and pulled a cable. The bus pulled over at the next bus stop and the two men got off, hands linked.

"I'm sorry." Sam said suddenly as they crossed the street and walked up to the building. "I'm sorry all this shit happened to you. You didn't deserve that."

"Some would say I did." Gabe kicked a stone into the road.

"No one deserves what you've been through."

"Can you cut my hair?" Gabe changed the subject. Sam opened the door for him, looking at him with surprise through the glass and bars. 

"Sure. How do you want it cut?" Sam was used to cutting his own hair. He should be able to handle Gabriel's.

"Take it all off." Gabriel lifted his shoulder, a tremble running down from the top of his neck to the base of his spine. "Don't want it anymore."

"Did you want it to begin with?" Sam regretted that bold question the moment it left his lips. He fumbled with his keys at the door as that awful question hung between them. Gabriel looked surprised, pursing his lips before busting out a giant belly laugh that had him bending over.

"Not exactly, no." Gabe chuckled. Sam embarrassed himself by taking a moment to appreciate Gabe's ass in those jeans. Stop. He needed to stop. Sure. Gabriel was his boyfriend, but anything sexual seemed to make things worse between them. Openly checking him out... Sam wasn't so sure how Gabe would take it.

There, the key finally got into the lock and they were back inside. Gabe preened internally at Sam's attention. Sam thought he was attractive. Sam wanted him. He was Sam's. Gabriel knew in his head that using Sam as the source of his self-worth could only end badly, but he hadn't felt so important, so precious, so loved, that he didn't care. Sam didn't value him as a possession but a person. And Sam wanted to keep him. Gabe smiled, strutting just a little, feeling Sam's eyes back on him.

"Did you want me to cut your hair tonight?" Gabe tugged on a strand, forgetting why he had wanted his hair cut so badly. It wasn't urgent if he couldn't remember, right? Things were good. His master/boyfriend just stood up for him to the toughest person Gabe knew. Tonight, tonight, Gabe wanted to celebrate.

"No, it can wait." Gabriel reached for Sam. "I kind of just want to kiss my boyfriend." Sam gave him a hard look and Gabriel nodded, Sam softening almost instantly.

"Okay, come here." Gabe blinked as Sam's hand cupped his cheek. Sam looked at Gabe like he could really see him, something that unnerved and thrilled Gabe to no end.

"What?" Gabe shrugged, trying not to show his nervousness and failing.

"Nothing." Sam dropped his head, his hair falling in front of his face. His voice trailed off into a whisper but as a slave whose life used to depend on listening to whatever his masters said, Gabe heard him. "Just feeling lucky."

"You score or something, big boy?" Gabe cracked an easy grin, smiling for real at the speed with which Sam's head shot up.

"Not like that! I meant lucky to have you, like, in my life."

"God, kiddo." Gabe chuckled. "Just when I thought you couldn't get any cuter, you start stammering over little, old me."

"I do what I can." Sam dead panned, unable to stay serious for long. He leaned down to kiss his boyfriend. "I'm serious, Gabe. I'm so lucky."

"I think I'm the one who lucked out." Gabe took Sam's warm, flushed cheeks in his hands, easing Sam down into another kiss. Their kisses were slow and sweet. There was no rush, nothing to prove. No one wanted to push it past being the kisses it currently was. Sam was interested in more, but after Gabe's breakdown, his 'sub-drop,' Sam was not initiating sex. Gabe felt like he should offer, but the week of prostituting himself out had made it very clear: he didn't like sex right now even though he wanted to try it out with Sam some day. Maybe if he waited until he was ready, he wouldn't hate it.

"Wanna go lie down?" Sam asked after a few minutes of lips meeting and tongues tangling, their bodies pushing up against each other for better access to the other's mouth. Gabe nodded, fine with getting ready for bed. He'd brush his teeth, get in his pjs...

"Minty fresh." He muttered, heading towards the bathroom when Sam caught his hand and pulled him back against his chest.

"Not ready to let you go just yet." Gabe swallowed down his initial fear at being pulled back, kind of turned on when Sam scooped him up and sat him on the counter. "There." Sam bumped their noses together gently. "Now you don't have stand on your tiptoes." Gabe leaned forward, just enough to brush their foreheads together as well. They shared a breath, long and relaxed, Sam's hands encircling Gabe's hips, Gabe's arms resting on Sam's shoulders, hands in his hair.

"Not my fault you're so damn tall." Gabe grumbled.

"Such original jokes." Sam groaned. "You think I haven't heard that one before?" Gabe didn't know what to do with the hot flash of jealousy that he felt at the thought of Sam kissing someone else, being teased by someone else.

"Princess." Gabe leaned down, knees pressed into Sam's sides, feet locked nehind Sam's back. "My princess." He went to kiss Sam but hesitated, shocked by his own boldness. He had just claimed Sam who was technically still his master despite also being Gabe's hot boyfriend. Gabriel didn't know how to balance those two relationships: he had to chose one or the other or lose both. Sam's eyes lit up.

"Yea, that's right, Gabe," he whispered reverently, "I'm yours." God, Gabe was a goner as Sam closed the gap between their lips with another sweet kiss. Gabe tightened his hold around Sam's neck, not too tight, just enough to return the sentiment. Sam owned him: every part of Gabriel now belonged to Sam, even the parts he hadn't shown him yet. 

Of course, Gabe didn't say any of that, just kissed Sam a little too hard so their teeth clacked. Sam had pulled back and looked at him, really looked at him, again. Bless Sam because he just fucking got it this time. His kisses kept coming and Gabe met each and every one with one of his own until they all mixed and mingled together to the point only not knowing where one ended and one began. 

They did end up on the bed, but their kisses were slow again. Shirts were discarded or ridden up, revealing skin, as hands explored and mapped out this new territory. 

"I think I love you." Gabe didn't care if some people would say it was too soon. Nothing was normal about their situation, their relationship. It was what it was and they were making it their own.

"I love you too." Sam tried to kiss him but Gabe turned his head.

"Can I show you something first?" Trepidation showed on Sam's face, but he still agreed.

"Sure."

"On your laptop?" Sam got up and retrieved his laptop, handing it to Gabriel before crawling back on his bed. Gabe flipped it open and opened up the web browser, meticulously typing with two fingers.

"What are you showing me? The latest cat video?" Gabe shook his head. He did not even know what that meant, but he didn't ask. Cat videos. Hah. He hoped Sam liked the classics as much as he liked animals.

"I'm showing you Gabriel Novak." Gabe handed the laptop over to Sam who was lying next to him. Sam sat up and took the computer, settling it in his lap. Gabe sat up and scooted over, curling up as much as he could, pressing into Sam's side.

"This isn't going to change anything." Sam promised, kissing the top of Gabriel's head. "It won't change how I feel about you." Gabe just reached over and tapped the laptop to play the loaded video. Sam quieted down as applause came out of the crappy speakers and a younger, freer Gabe appeared on the screen. Gabe was dressed to the nines as he strode confidentially cover to the white grand piano. "You play?" Sam asked, glancing down at Gabriel, but Gabe was lost in thought, staring at his younger self. Sam was able to answer his own question seven minutes later, mind stunned by the skill just displayed there before him on YouTube.

Gabe was falling apart, tears and snot all over his face as he watched his hands race over the keys. He couldn't remember the name or the composer, just that it had taken him a long time to perfect that performance. It had been flawless. He glanced down, his fingers tapping out some of the melody, his mind and muscle memory working together to bring some of those notes back to him. "Gabe, that was amazing!" Gabe wiped his face and nodded, sniffling and laughing. He had always been so lost in his music despite how much he had hated his biological mother for making him learn it in the first place. "You went to Juilliard? You have a website! You went on tour!" Gabe nodded. Those memories were the foggiest. He had clung to his memories of Ellen and Cassie and Balthazar, not the nameless fans or the strict teachers. "How the hell did you become a slave?"

"Good question." But Gabe wasn't ready to show that part of himself to Sam just yet. Sam sensed that and put the laptop away. He'd research later, pulling Gabe up on his lap instead.

"You're amazing."

"Don't say that." Gabe's first master had said that a lot, especially after making Gabriel play for him. That master had known who he was and had done nothing but destroy what was left of an already shattered Gabriel.

"I love you." Gabe closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Sam, finally accepting the comfort his boyfriend was trying to give.

"I love you too." Gabe took in a deep breath, shuddering as he exhaled out all those bad memories. He'd keep the good. He'd keep the good.


	17. Baby, Come Home

Gabe woke up achingly hard. He gasped, sucking in as much air as he could. His dreams had been vivid, writhing and moaning, pressed up against Sam. And pressed up against Sam he was now, grinding up against him, chasing release that he hasn't had in so long. Not like this. He needed this; he needed to be with Sam in this way. He needed to get over this. He needed to get off.

"Sam." He wrapped his fingers around the fabric, straining the thin material around his knuckles. "Sam, wake up." He panted, pressing his head against Sam's back as he rutted against the curve of Sam's ass. "Sam!"

"Wha— whoa, Gabe!" Sam was groggy, but he was awake enough to know the hardness against his ass was not a baseball bat. "You okay?" Gabe rolled his hips.

"Fine— need you, oh, Sam, please."

"I'm turning around." Gabe's boyfriend shifted, rolling over. Gabriel whined as he lost that friction he had been creating. "What do you need?" Sam slotted his knee up and Gabriel was ready to cry with relief as he rocked his body against Sam's. He needed this. Gabe needed to be able to let go.

"Need you. Touch me. Please, Sam. Need you!" Gabriel's breathing was erratic. He was so close, but still just far enough to frustrate himself.

"I don't want to trigger you—" Sam slid his leg down and Gabriel moved in.

"I need you to touch me!" Gabe snarled. "I want you to be the one who gets me off." Sam groaned at those words, biting his lip. It was dark, but he could feel every outline of Gabriel's body pressed against his own. Gabriel's back was damp with sweat underneath Sam's hands that guided him closer. "Sam, I'm so close, please." Gabriel begged into the skin gracing Sam's neck. He nibbled along the column of Sam's neck before letting out a burdened sigh. "I want this with you." Gabe admitted even as he searched for some sort of physical resistance to get off on. 

He whimpered as Sam's hand suddenly pressed against his sweatpants, cupping him through the fabric. "Yes, Sam! That. Please!" He surged forward, rocking against Sam's hand. Sam's eyes widened as he felt the outline of Gabe's cock. He wasn't expecting Gabriel to be so close. He could feel how engorged, how ready, how close Gabriel was to blowing his load in his pants. He began to rub Gabriel's cock through his pants, feeling along the hard cock. Sam couldn't wait until he could take Gabriel in hand, in his mouth, but that could be later. Right now Gabe needed relief. It didn't take long after that, between Gabriel snapping his hips to meet Sam's hand and Sam's massaging efforts, Gabriel came in his pants with a shaky cry. 

Gabe ceased his undulation, rolling into Sam and remaining unmoving even after Sam nudged him.

"Hey, babe, you okay?" Sam pressed a kiss to Gabriel's forehead, barely feeling the moment of Gabe's faint nod. Gabriel's breathing was fast as he nosed into Sam's neck some more, seeking comfort. "I'm so proud of you." Sam knew that it was difficult for Gabriel to trust. And yes it was Sam and it was Gabriel, but technically they were slave and master even though they were boyfriends. No matter how Sam stressed that it didn't define them, that they were equals: it was only partially true. Gabriel had taken some of that freedom tonight. No slave, especially not a pleasure slave, ever asked for release or for their needs to be met. That show of trust humbled Sam, strengthening his resolve to be the person Gabe needed him to be. "I love you." Sam said softly. That roused a response out of his sleepy boyfriend.

"Love you too."

"I'm going to clean you up, okay, baby?"

"'Kay." Gabriel mumbled. That orgasm, that whole situation had exhausted him, but it had relaxed him. That guilt of becoming aroused for that professor and not Sam lessened as the knowledge that he could respond to Sam and be taken care of by Sam leaked into his memory. Sam was quick and gentle as he cleaned his boyfriend up and changed his pants. Gabriel was half-asleep when Sam rejoined him in bed, giving a sigh of contentment as Sam pulled him against his chest. Gabe felt safe.

The next morning was a lazy morning. Sam didn't seem to want to let go of Gabe after he relieved his bladder: Gabriel was happy to stay all cuddled up to his sweet, hot boyfriend. Sam was perfect, maybe not a perfect person, but he was still perfect. He was perfect to Gabe.

Sam had never seen Gabe so content to lie still. Gabriel was tactile to a point, but Sam also saw the boundaries he had put up after years of slavery and abuse. This was the longest that Gabe had let Sam hold him ever. Five minutes later, Gabe wriggled out and up, giving Sam a wary look on his way to the bathroom. He trusted Sam, he did, Gabriel just didn't trust the system.

Sam wasn't a part of the system, he didn't get how things worked inside the system. But when Gabriel opened the door to the bathroom and saw Sam sitting on the couch, waiting for him, Gabriel was so glad Sam wasn't a typical master. For whatever reason, Sam saw him as cute and dateable. Gabriel didn't feel like either, but he wasn't going to convince Sam otherwise.

"Are you okay?" Sam tangled their fingers together as soon as Gabriel approached him. Gabe didn't remember the last time he held hands with anyone other than sheer terror, but it still felt nice when Sam did it. Everything felt nice when Sam did it. Gabriel turned a shade of red when he remember last night. He had been pretty needy. Sam wasn't asking him that though, so Gabe just nodded. "Good." And Sam tugged Gabe into his lap, opening his legs so they were parted on either side of him. Before Gabe could adjust to suddenly being so vulnerable, hot, insistent lips were on his own. 

"Sam." Gabe whispered, overwhelmed but enjoying it. He had let go and Sam had taken that control. Gabe felt himself hardening, pressing up against all of Sam's bare skin. He loved it when Sam slept without a shirt, loved seeing those miles of skin and muscles. Sam leaned back to ask him a question, but Gabriel ran his thumbs over Sam's nipples and nothing came out of Sam's opened mouth than a sharp exhalation. Sam's nipples perked up as Gabriel kept thumbing, caressing and twisting them. Sam leaned back and let Gabriel do as he wished, hands firm on Gabe's hips, keeping their clothed erections rubbing together. "Sam." Gabriel paused, trailing his fingertips down the sensitive places along Sam's ribs and sides before coming to rest on the band of Sam's sweatpants.

"Gabe." Sam lifted his head to glance down. "Geez, you want this as much as I do." Sam smiled suddenly. "I'm so glad Bobby found that chip." Gabe froze.

"What chip?" 

"The chip that kept you from getting an erection." Sam winced at sounding like a Viagra commercial. "I'll explain it more later, okay? It's gone now, so I'm not going to let it keep killing the mood." Gabe giggled at that, nodding his head and rocking up against Sam ever so slightly.

"Do you have lube?"

"Yea." Sam blushed as he answered. He had bought it recently. He hadn't expected anything, but he wanted to at least have it on hand of he and Gabe ever needed it.

"Good, I want you to, well, you know..." Gabe shrugged, slipping off Sam's lap. "I'll be in your room." Sam caught his wrist.

"You're going to have to tell me explicitly what you want, Gabe. We're not doing anything without clear consent."

"Okay." Gabriel turned so Sam wouldn't see the tears pricking his eyes. What was wrong with his boyfriend? Why was he so damn perfect? Gabe didn't know how to handle someone treating him so well, but he didn't want Sam to stop, so he hid his tears. "I want you to fuck me." He turned and walked away. Sam got up, grabbed the bottle of lube, and hurried after him.

"Are you sure you're ready for that?" It had been a few weeks since the sub-drop rape incident. Sam thought it was too soon. "You can fuck me instead." He offered. Sam knew that even though he had never bottomed before, he, Sam, would be more comfortable bottoming than topping if they had sex today. "Or we can just make out and jack off, that's always fun." Sam grinned.

"You'd really let me do that? You'd let me top?" Gabe looked stunned. Sam nodded.

"Hell yea." He cupped a side of Gabriel's face. "I love you." He bent down for a warm, soft kiss. "I trust you, Gabe." Trust. Gabe thought trust was coming up a lot today. "How do you want me?" Sam slid his pants down, exposing every inch of his body. Gabe blew out a shaky breath, eyeing him up and down, zeroing in on Sam's big cock. Gabe was relieved to be topping, just with where his own head was at, but he was still surprised Sam offered. This has to be a boyfriend thing because most masters would never bottom.

"Okay." Gabriel skimmed his hands over Sam's sides and back, loving how he shivered. "Hands and knees: it's easier for your first time. Hurts less." Gabriel's first time bottoming had been as a free man, but it still hadn't been a good experience. He promised himself he'd make this good for Sam. "Next time, you're fucking me though."

"I don't know." Sam shot him a smile as he clambered up on the bed, hands and knees like Gabe had said. All that trust bottled up with sunshine and puppy dog eyes made Gabriel feel a little sick and a lot in love. He'd never forgive himself if he hurt Sam. "I might turn into a huge cockslut and we'll have to spend the rest of our lives with you pounding me into a mattress." Gabriel choked on spit and dropped the lube that he had just picked up. He wasn't going to lie, that mental image was more appealing than it should be. Sam laughed at Gabriel's expression, taking a breath before wriggling his ass in the air, "I'm waiting." He teased.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Gabriel snorted, scooping the lube back up. He liked this. He liked being in charge, in control of the situation. He liked Sam at his mercy. He liked Sam. Gabriel got on his knees, getting on the bed behind Sam, situating between Sam's legs. Gabe ran his hand over the swell of Sam's ass, appreciating the slight tremble. "You all right?" Gabe needed to make sure. "If anything ever hurts, I need you to let me know."

"I'm all right, Gabe."

"No! You need to let me know." Gabe crooked a finger, tracing down Sam's lower back, down to the pucker between Sam's ass cheeks. "I won't do this if you don't communicate to me if something hurts."

"I will, Gabe, I promise. I just kind of want you inside me now." 

"Okay, just tell me if it hurts because it probably will. I want to make this as good for you as I can."

"I trust you." Gabe rolled his eyes but smiled as he slicked up his first finger and pressed inside of Sam's hole, slowly and as gently as he could. Sam was hot and tight inside. Gabe could feel all his muscles tensing and straining, fighting the intrusion. It brought back memories that Gabe quickly pushed back to the back of his mind. This, this was about him and Sam, none of those cruel ghosts were allowed to torment him right now. 

"I know it feels weird." Gabe counseled. "But it feels better later."

"How much later?" Sam joked, but the tension in his voice hung between them.

"Very soon." Gabe started to work on opening Sam up. He didn't want Sam to hover in that place between discomfort and pleasure too long. Just because most of what Gabe has known had been pain, didn't mean Sam's first time had to be that way. Sam's first time wouldn't be that way. Gabe would take care of him.

One finger in and out. Two fingers. Sam jerked forward, fists clenched around handfuls of pillow. He sank down to his elbows. "Are you okay?" Gabe was pretty sure that was Sam's prostate kicking in.

"Feels good." Sam choked. "What was that?"

"Best damn thing when you're receiving." Gabriel cracked a smile. "It's your prostate." 

"Oh." Sam nodded, another shuddering gasp as Gabe pressed his fingers up against that spot as before. "Fuck." 

"I love how you talk dirty." Gabe teased, feeling more relaxed now that things were progressing in a better manner. "You're almost ready." He added a third finger.

"Shit." Sam spread his legs to accommodate that extra finger. Goodness. Gabe hadn't seen anything that pretty since ever.

"You're beautiful." He whispered. Gabe didn't intend on Sam hearing, it was just a quiet acknowledgement. Sam heard him, he said nothing, but the blush that spread down from his face and chest was proof enough. Sam probably didn't get a lot of compliments on his appearance that had that much love and admiration combined. Gabe wasn't even in Sam yet and he had never had sex like this.

"Gabe, I'm ready. Need you." Sam sounded almost as desperate as Gabe had the night before.

"I got you." Gabriel slicked himself up, moving in closer before his tip nudged Sam's entrance. "You have to let me know when to go or stop at this point, baby."

"You called me baby." Sam shuddered hard as Gabe eased in a little more. Nicknames and pet names were normally Sam's thing, but Sam was finding that particular pet name in this context made him want to blow his whole load right then and there. 

"You like that, baby?" Gabe reached around, fingers brushing against Sam's throbbing cock. Sam moaned, nodding his head vigorously. "Ah, ah, baby." Gabe moved his hands to secure Sam's hips as he pushed in more. "You gotta tell me what you lien, let me hear just how wrecked you are."

"God, Gabe." Sam sounded wrecked indeed but in the best possible way. "Warn a guy."

"Oh, baby," another shiver," we're just getting started." Gabriel slid home, fully inside of his boyfriend who was panting, gasping, and shaking just a little. "Talk."

"It's good." Sam groaned. "It hurts a little, burns like I'm gonna tear or something." Gabriel felt Sam's body tense around him and moaned. He wasn't going to last long. He was still too new to arousal to have much endurance. Thankfully, Sam wasn't much better. Gabe shifted and Sam clenched hard. "Don't move!"

"I can slide out."

"No! No. Just let me adjust. I can take you."

"I'm sure you can, baby. You're doing so good, Sam." Sam's entire body was flushed now as he breathed through the discomfort of having Gabe fully sheathed within. He faintly remembered Mr. Tran telling him that Gabriel was just the right size for whatever his interests were. He got it now. Gabe was big enough to top, but not so big that he was assumed to be the top. Gabe wasn't as big as Sam, something Sam was very grateful for as he was stretched to his limits.

"Okay." Sam said after a few more minutes. "It doesn't hurt so much."

"Thank you." Gabe slid back.

"No! Keep it in!" Gabriel laughed.

"I gotta take it out to put it back in. It's not that different from what you do with a girl."

"I know! I just can't think straight." Gabe snorted, but bit his tongue. He didn't want to embarrass Sam. He wanted to bring him pure ecstasy.

"Not judging you." Gabe's eyes nearly rolled back in his head as he slid back inside Sam. "God, you feel so good, Sam. Still can't believe you're letting me do you. You're so tight. So perfect." Sam's back arched at the praise, legs shifting apart more to take Gabe in deeper as Gabe repeated the motion. They found a rhythm, but Gabe was already slipping. "Not gonna last much longer." He panted out as he thrust into Sam again and again.

"You're not going to last long?!" Sam's knuckles were white as he clung to the headboard. "I feel like I'm gonna cum my brains out." He rasped out.

"Show me." Gabe managed. "Show me how pretty you can come for me, baby." Sam tensed before he suddenly gave a strangled cry as he decorated the sheets with milky ropes. 

"Gabe." Sam fell silent, his body boneless, shifting this way and that as Gabe continued to fuck into him. A few thrusts later, Gabe came with a whimper, marking Sam up inside as all his. 

"My Sam." Gabe hung over him for seconds, catching his breath before making himself move. He carefully slid out of Sam, putting space between their bodies. He had always hated being pinned between a sweaty person and the bed. He got a washcloth and cleaned himself and Sam up. Sam still had yet to move, his breath slowly evening out. "You okay?" Gabriel was a little afraid to call Sam 'baby' now that he wasn't in control. 

"Better than okay. Hey, Gabe?"

"Hmm."

"You can call me baby even when you're not fucking my brains out." Sam whispered. "I like it."

"What about baby boy?" Gabriel waggled his eyebrows as he collapsed next to Sam. Sam shivered, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend, resting his head on Gabe's bare chest.

"No, that's only for fucking me boneless."

"Mm, got it."

"I love you."

"I love you too, baby boy."

"Gabe... Let me sleep this off before you get me all riled up again."

"No promises." Gabriel rested the side of his jaw against the top of Sam's fantastic sex hair. "I do love you, Sam, more than I've loved anyone before." He confessed. Gabe had never had anything really serious as a free man and slaves, well, pleasure slaves found it best to stay away from anyone. No one was safe for a pleasure slave to be around: everyone was a threat. Everyone wanted to use a pleasure slave. So yea, Gabe was used to being alone.

"I feel the same way about you, Gabe." That arm wrapped around him tightened. "I love you so much." This time that admission of care and devotion didn't make Gabriel feel sick. Instead he felt like he was completely and utterly at home. Sam was his home.


	18. We'll Take the World to Its Feet

"Hey, baby boy!" Gabriel called out cheerfully as Sam came in. He would never get over how much him saying those two words could so clearly affect Sam. Sam gave him a look, laughing despite himself.

"Hey, baby." He replied, coming over to the couch to give Gabriel a kiss.

"How'd your interview go?" Gabriel asked, pulling Sam down next to him, so he could climb on to his lap. "I missed you."

"I can tell." Sam stole another kiss that was freely given. "I missed you too. Uh, my interview went good, really good."

"Oh yea?"

"Yea, I actually start tomorrow."

"What?! No way!" Gabriel threw his arms around Sam's next, squeezing him in an enthusiastic hug. "Congratulations!" He dove in for another kiss, a sloppier kiss as Sam wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer. They made out for a few minutes until Gabriel pulled back. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you." Sam beamed. "I can't believe I got a job at Azazel & Novak! I mean, I haven't even graduated yet—this is so huge, Gabe. I just feel like my luck has finally turned around. Sam hugged him again. "Oh, I bought some groceries since we were running low. I wanted to make you something special."

"I can't wait." Gabriel tumbled over to the empty side of the couch so Sam could get up and retrieve the bags he left by the door. He watched as Sam carried the groceries over to the kitchen, placing them on the corner along with his keys and wallet. "Hey, Sam?"

"Yea, babe?" Sam glanced over, unpacking the bags. 

"I wanna have sex tonight."

"Gabe, you want to have sex every night." Sam still blushed when he said that, bless his heart.

"But I want you to top tonight." Gabriel folded his arms across his chest, suddenly afraid Sam would say no.

"You sure?" Gabriel nodded, biting his bottom lip nervously.

"Yea."

"Okay, we'll give it a shot. Just let me know—."

"Sam, I know the drill, okay? I want this, really."

"Okay, sorry." Sam turned back to the groceries. He had that lawyer face on, the one where he was purposely trying to keep Gabe from picking up on how he was feeling. 

"Why you apologizing?" Gabe hopped off the couch. "You didn't do anything wrong. I know you're just looking out for me, Sam, but this is my body. I'll do with it as I please!" Gabe was folding his arms again despite trying not to be defensive about this whole thing. Sam had stopped unpacking and was now leaning against the counter, eyes on Gabe like he was waiting for a reprimand or something more. "I get it, it's your body involved too, but Sam, I want this with you. And geez, man, if you want it too then don't take away my choice. I haven't wanted to bottom for anyone in a long time, Sam." Sam opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

"How the fuck am I supposed to say no to that?" Sam laughed. "Fuck, Gabe."

"You can say no if you want to."Gabe sniffed, hiding his smile. 

"I don't wanna say no though." Sam smiled, pressing his palm against Gabe's cheek as Gabriel finally relented, flashing his teeth. Sam's fingers curled into Gabriel's hair before leaning down and capturing his boyfriend's sweet lips with his own. Gabe was up on his tiptoes, diving into Sam's kiss. "I will say to wait though." Sam pulled back. "I'm making you dinner first. Tonight is a big night."

"I'm excited!" Gabe pulled Sam over to the groceries. "You can teach me how to cook too."

"Why don't we pace ourselves? I have a feeling that dinner and dessert," he winked, "will be more than satisfying." Gabriel grinned, feeling very proud to be considered dessert. He hadn't been kidding. He was ready and he was fucking excited. Life, life was good. He had Sam who was more than just his boyfriend, Sam was home. Sam got a new job, so they wouldn't be worrying about money anymore even though Gabe was worried about the name Novak being attached to Sam's new job, but still. He just wanted to enjoy tonight. It would be fine.

Sam started on dinner right away even though it was only about 3 in the afternoon. 

"Can I help you with anything?"

"No, you can just hang out. Put some music on if you want." 

"Okay!" Gabriel scooted over to Sam, reaching in his back pocket and pulling his phone out.

"Whoa, Gabe." Sam scooted forward.

"Don't be so shy." Gabe teased, smacking Sam's ass. "It's not like I don't tap that on a regular basis." He gasped and covered his mouth a second after. "Holy shit, I'm sorry." He gave a surprised laugh. "That was so–."

"You?" Sam raised his eyebrows. "Don't apologize for finally showing me what you're really after."

"C'mon, you know I love you, princess."

"I was teasing, Gabe." Sam tugged on a strand of Gabe's hair. "You ever getting a haircut by the way?"

"You trimmed it the other day." Gabe smoothed it back. "I like it."

"Okay."

"You did more research, didn't you?"

"I like to be informed."

"Yea, a little too much." Sam blinked, making the face that implied he was slightly offended but not enough to let it spoil the mood.

"You're incorrigible."

"No, i—no, actually you're right. I'm a hopeless romantic when it comes up all things you." Gabriel's eyes twinkled as he hit play on Sam's music app. 

"And you're cheesy as fuck!" Sam fired back.

"You love it!"

"Yea, I do." Sam regarded him fondly as Gabe started shaking what his momma gave him, dancing around the small kitchen and living room. 

"Good. Now finish up your prep and dance with me!"

"Once I put this in the oven, we'll have like 40 minutes to dance."

"Or have a quickie as an appetizer." Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. Sam said nothing, but one look from Gabe confirmed that he definitely wanted to sample the appetizer. "Put the food in the oven already. I want you."

"You still got to give me warning." Sam pushed the pan into the oven, closing the door. "You get me all riled up just talking."

"Oh, honey, I don't even have to talk to do that." Gabe stuck his tongue out.

"Yea, yea, you're all talk." Gabe's eyebrows shot up at that challenge, scurrying over to Sam. Hands gripping Sam's belt, he pulled his boyfriend's body against his own. Sam looked down, eyes wide as Gabriel wrapped his hands around Sam's neck and eased himself up, locking his legs around Sam's torso, like a monkey, but a sexy monkey.

"You gonna keep talking or are you gonna finally put your cock in me?" Gabe whispered in Sam's ear. "I could take you just like this. If you're strong enough to hold me up, that is." Sam swallowed hard, his arousal pressed up against Gabe's ass. Gabe undulated once, nearly knocking them both over until Sam grabbed him with one hand and the counter with the other. "You're already coming undone." Gabe tsked. "Looks like we'll be done with plenty of time before dinner."

"Antagonizing me is not a good way to get what you want." Sam half-growled, half-moaned.

"But you rise to the challenge so well." Gabe giggled as Sam groaned at his pun. "Can you carry me to wherever you wanna fuck me?" Sam had a realization as he stood there, leaning against the counter with a sexy deadweight that was squirming against his dick and stomach: his life was never going to be the same. Gabe was a wild adventure, in more ways than one. Not just when he bought the guy, but now that they were dating—well, it was an adventure Sam never wanted to get off. Sam wanted forever. He didn't know of it was too soon or too much to ask, but he wanted forever with Gabriel. Sam kissed Gabe before carrying him over to the island counter, settling him down. "You gonna fuck me here, Sammy?" Gabe wriggled his ass on the counter, kicking his feet out.

"I'm putting you down so I can get the lube." 

"Tada." Gabe pulled the tube out of his pocket and waved it under Sam's nose. 

"You really want to do it here?"

"Well, I'm good with anywhere but the bed." Gabe shrugged. "Beds are weird and triggering. Kitchen counters are hot and spontaneous." He cocked his head and smiled over at Sam. "I don't care where, Sam, as long as it's you." He leaned back on his elbow, brushing away the grocery bags to the floor. "Oh, and I already prepped myself." 

"Gabe!" Sam laughed. "Okay, okay, let's do this."

"That's the best line you got?"

"Currently." Sam pursed his lips. "I can't think straight with you all spread out like this, waiting for my cock." He winked.

"Not bad, but lose the wink."

"Are you giving me tips of how to talk dirty?"

"It's okay to admit you need help. This is a safe place." Sam laughed softly, pulling Gabe up into a kiss. Gabe returned the kiss, hands fumbling under Sam's shirt, pushing it up. Naked Sam was one of his very favorite version of Sam, right up there with Sweet Sam.

"You're lucky I love you." Sam let Gabe pull his shirt up over his head. His ever insatiable boyfriend was working on his belt and pants before the shirt could hit the tiled floor.

"Mmhmm." Happy that Sam was stepping out of his pants and boxers, Gabe wriggled out of his own pants. 

"Wait." Sam leaned down to kiss him and then worked him out of his shirt. "I wanna help get you naked."

"Anytime, Samsquatch, anytime." Gabe gave a breathy laugh, ducking out of his shirt. Gabe sucked in a breath when Sam's hand brushed the elastic band of his boxers. Shit. They were really doing this.

"You good?"

"Better than good." Gabriel lifted his butt up, so Sam could take his boxers off. 

"Okay, let me know if that changes."

"I will, but it won't." Gabe gasped as Sam slicked up his hand and stroked Gabe's cock. He let his ass settle back on the counter as Sam kept pumping him. "Okay, I know we've been working on my endurance a lot, but God, your hand, Sam, get your dick in me first." Sam's hand was big enough to envelop Gabe's cock, almost mimicking being back inside of Sam, which was fantastic by the way. 

Gabe peeked down to make sure Sam was still hard and he got a front-row show to Sam's slicking up his own cock. "Stroke yourself." 

"You're bossy and short."

"Proud of it, babe, now do it." Gabe nudged him with his knew. "Wanna see you play with yourself." He stifled a gasp with his hand as Sam twisted his cock in his hand just right. Gabe moaned as Sam stroked him a little harder while working himself over. Gabe wasn't sure if feeling Sam's hand on himself or seeing Sam respond to his own hand. 

"Gabe, we are both not going to last." It was a statement and a question all in one.

"Then get on with it!" Gabe laid down, back down against the counter. For a split second, Gabe felt exposed, but Sam had slicked up his fingers and started stretching Gabe. "I already did it."

"I know." Sam had the audacity to grin as he added another finger and then another. "I thought I'd give you the full treatment." Sam crooked his fingers and pressed inside. Gabriel gasped, inching up on the counter as an explosion of pleasure rocketed up his spine.

"Holy shit, Sam, I'm ready!"

"All right, all right." Sam's laugh rumbled in his chest. Sam withdrew his fingers, slicked his cock up, and pressed his cock inside. 

"Aw, shoot, aw fuck yes, Sam, gimme more." Gabe was arching his back off the counter, hands gripping the edges as he wrapped his legs around Sam's waist, pulling Sam closer and further in. "Ooh, shit, baby boy, that's the fucking stuff." He babbled, already teetering on the edge as Sam's tip pressed right up against his prostate. Sam sensed it, probably from his incoherent babbling about how good Sam felt, drawing out to hit that spot. Sam had pretty fucking awesome aim, hitting Gabe's prostate over and over until Gabriel was a hot, begging mess. A few more thrusts and Gabe screamed, painting his chest and face with cum as he came explosively, coming untouched. He mumbled Sam's praises as Sam kept going, coming a few moments later. Sam knew he was about done for watching Gabe practically implode from pleasure. 

Sam slumped against the counter, resting half on Gabe and half on the tile. 

"God, Gabe, you're incredible."

"You're incre'ble." Gabe slurred a little, unsure if he was capable of moving. Sam pressed up against his side, his forehead against Gabe's ribs. His breath tickled Gabe as their breaths synced and slowed as they finally caught their breath. They both jumped as the timer went off on the stove. Sam groaned, pulling himself up and easing out of Gabe's pliant form. Gabe whined at the lack of Sam, tilting his head to watch his boyfriend wash his hands, get oven mitts, and pull the food out of the stove. Gabe felt odd: at least until the realization hit him that he finally felt whole.

Dinner smelled amazing, causing Gabe to perk back to life a little bit. "Oof!" Gabe was already winded as he dropped down from the counter, landing on his bare feet. He nearly toppled over but caught himself.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked as he placed the food on the stove top.

"Gonna wash up." Gabe gestured to the cooling cum on his body and face. Sam blinked, taking in the slightly debauched look on Gabe's face. Sam saved that memory for later as he slid his hands out of the oven mitts.

"You want company in there. Dinner could stand to cool for a few minutes."

"Yea." Gabe smiled. Sam pulled him into a tight hug, not even caring that Gabriel's release was now smeared on to him.

"I love you, Gabe."

"I love you too, princess." Gabe yelped as Sam pinched his ass. 

"Hurry up, we still have that amazing dinner I promised you, although I'm not eating it on the counter. I need to get bleach."

"We could eat in bed." Gabe waggled his eyebrows as he turned on the shower, stepping under the warm spray.

"Why you—." Sam shook his head with a laugh. "Bed it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interactive part!
> 
> I was wondering that if you guys had a preference of who gets hurt and who pines and worries about the hurt one in some upcoming chapters. Hurt Gabe/ Worried Sam or Hurt Sam/Worried Gabe? Let me know!
> 
> -fluffy


	19. I'm Going Through

After they cleaned up and made out for a little while under the running spray, Gabe and Sam dried off and got sort of dressed. Sam pulled on a pair of sweatpants while Gabe settled for boxers and a thin undershirt of Sam's. Sam noticed that Gabe kept his torso covered a lot, only baring it to shower or have sex, but he didn't always take it off for sexy times. Gabe had scars, most faded into the skin, most of them permanent reminders of the rough decade Gabe had survived. Gabriel didn't like to talk about it; Sam didn't pry. They were happy. Sam just hope Gabe knew how perfect he was to Sam, all things considered. Sam would try to let him know just how wonderful he was to Sam. 

Okay, so it was probably going to come up at some point. Sam just didn't want things to take a sour turn when everything seemed so good. Gabe was a different person from the wild, distrustful man Sam had paid for in Mr. Tran's shop. Sam felt like he was getting to know the real Gabriel now. Sam loved Gabriel. That was terrifying and exhilarating all in itself.

They had dinner, kind of curled up on Sam's bed, knees touching as they watched a movie on Sam's laptop. Gabe appreciated the quiet time with the person he loved most in the world. It's not that he didn't want to talk, but bottoming had taken a lot more out of him than he had let on. He had faced a lot of fears to do that. He hadn't lied, yes, he truly had been ready. But he didn't tell Sam about the anxiety twisting up his gut as he put that last fear once Gabe bent over for him. 

Dinner was delicious and Gabe broke his self-imposed silence to tell Sam just that. He fell asleep soon after, nestled against Sam, securely wrapped around his boyfriend's arm and chest. Sam pulled up the blankets to tuck around Gabe as he snores quietly. Sam picked up the dishes and closed the laptop, replacing himself with a pillow as Gabe snuggled it and slipped into a deeper sleep. Sam knew Gabe had pushed himself, but he didn't know the extent. He hoped Gabe hadn't pushed himself too far. He was clearly exhausted.

Once Sam finished the dishes, put the food away, and thoroughly scrubbed the counter they had christened, he rejoined Gabe in bed, flinging his arm around Gabe and pulling him close. Golden eyes blinked open for a second, registered who was touching him, and snuggled closer, accepting Sam's embrace.

"Good luck on your first day." Gabriel yawned, sitting up in bed as Sam got dressed. Sam had one suit he had scooped up from the thrift shop. Sam looked good in a suit. Good enough to peel all those layers off when Gabe didn't feel so tired. He was a little sore which surprised him: he hadn't been sore after bottoming in a long time. But he had never had such a break either. Sam had given him a month to acclimate to the physical side of their relationship before letting Gabe bottom.

"Thanks." Sam looked over at him. Gabe saw the question in his eyes before he voiced it, rolling his eyes before Sam could finish. "How are you feeling?"

"Great, Sam."

"You were pretty tuckered out last night."

"No more than you when you bottom!" Gabe was defensive, but he didn't care. He just wanted to fucking enjoy this without Sam worrying about him. He knew it was because Sam cared but seriously! Gabe was a grown man. It'd take more than Sam's big dick to hurt him.

Okay. Maybe that wasn't the truth. Sam could hurt him. Sam could seriously injure him inside and out, but Sam wouldn't. Sam wasn't like that. Sam was kind.

"True." Sam regarded him for a moment before letting the matter drop. "I know you'd tell me the truth." Gabe smiled, pulling the covers up a little more. He was getting sleepy again. Sam was right: he was all tuckered out. "My mom invited us over for dinner." Sam changed the subject. Sleepy Gabe was one of Sam's favorites. He watched fondly as Gabe lay back down, curling up with a pillow squished in his arms. A Sam replacement until Sam could come back.

"When?" Gabe yawned so hard that Sam worried he was hurting his jaw before settling his head back down.

"Friday, after work."

"So after tomorrow."

"Yea." Sam huffed a laugh, but he didn't look thrilled.

"What's wrong?"

"My dad will be there." Sam's dad was a mystery to Gabriel. He had never met him, and had only seen one picture of him in Mary's house. For whatever reason, Sam wasn't close to his father. Sam didn't seem to even like his dad, which was odd; Sam seemed to like everyone.

"Oh. What's wrong with your dad?" Sleepy Gabe also didn't have much of a filter. Sam faltered, not knowing how to tell the man he basically rescued that Sam used to be abused too. Sam opted to take a page from Gabriel's book, covering his discomfort up with a joke.

"What isn't wrong with him?" Sam snorted. Gabe, even though he was sleepy, fixed Sam with a look that sobered him up. "We didn't part on good terms when I left the house. Things just got worse after Dean was taken. Dean would buffer between us, try to get us to see eye to eye. I couldn't see eye to eye with someone... someone like that." 

John had changed a lot since then. He had been stressed and afraid, afraid that he was going to be a widower and a single parent. He didn't handle the stress well, resorting to his fists and straight-up abandonment during the time Mary was in the hospital for her treatments. Sam didn't want to tell Gabe all that right now. 

"He can't be all that bad. He helped make the hottest boyfriend around." Gabe piped up, half-murmuring, half-drooling into the pillow. 

"Sleep, Gabe." That Sam laugh was more real. "I'll be home around 6."

"Love you." Gabe murmured. Sam's hair brushed against his cheek before Sam's lips did the same.

"I love you too." Gabe hummed a happy note at Sam's kiss. He didn't voice it, but he loved little kisses and really any sign of affection from Sam. The little things, the big things, Gabe cherished them all.

Around six that evening Gabe had dinner all ready when Sam dragged himself through the door.

"Hey, Sam." Gabe called, turning round to find Sam already there to give him his kiss. Gabe noticed how haggard Sam looked, but he didn't think he should call attention to it.

"Hi, babe." Sam took another kiss, deepening it quickly. Okay, Sam definitely had a bad day.

"How was your day?" Gabe interrupted the kiss that was getting too warm, too quick. Gabe needed Sam to be different. 

"I got a lot of coffee for everyone who wasn't me." Sam loosened his tie and slid it off. "I should have just found another job at another coffeeshop." He lamented. 

"I'm sure they'll come around and see what a valuable asset you are."

"They do! I'm a valuable asset to go get coffee!" Sam sighed after his outburst. "I'm sorry. Dinner smells great. I'm going to go take a shower and get changed into something that doesn't look like I bought it at Goodwill." Gabe's ears pricked up. Sam's pride had been wounded by being asked to do menial jobs and for being subjected to cruel comments. Gabe's heart ached for him. He knew all about that, but just like when it came to bottoming, Gabe wanted to protect Sam. Sam didn't deserve the shot he had gone through and Gabriel wanted to, if at all possible, keep any more shit from happening to Sam.

Okay, so Gabe wasn't the greatest realist in the world, but his life had kind of turned into Cinderella's.

Gabe turned his head when Sam tried to kiss him again, trying to tell himself that the sudden swell of fear was irrational. Sam backed off, letting Gabe go and stalking towards the bathroom. Gabe told himself Sam wasn't mad at him, but it still felt personal. 

Sam felt like shit that had been shit on. Gabe pushing him away only served to make him feel worse. He tried to tell himself that he had respected Gabe's boundary and that it was great that Gabriel felt capable of setting boundaries, but it felt like rejection. The whole damn, fucking, dumb day felt like a rejection. Sam had known starting out in the legal field would be tough, but he felt downright fragile just after one day. If it wasn't so close to the weekend, if tomorrow wasn't a better day, Sam felt like he would have quit. And quitting meant giving up his dream to help people; quitting meant quitting on finding Dean; quitting meant not saving Gabe or freeing him. 

Sam wasn't quitting. Sam wasn't that kind of guy, or at least he'd sure like to be. Sighing, feeling defeated despite that tiny flicker of determination, Sam started the shower and waited until the water was warm before stepping underneath the spray. He sank down, sitting on the floor of the tub, long legs bunched up.

"Hey." Sam jumped as Gabe stepped into the shower with him. "You okay?" Sam shook his head, making room as Gabe kneeled between his legs. Sam sniffled, letting Gabe wrap his arms around him. "You're more than a valuable asset to me, babe. You're also a hot piece of ass." Sam tried to laugh, but it was a strangled sob more than anything. He buried his face into Gabriel's shoulder and gave up trying to hold everything back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a little shorter than usual, but I'm gearing up for the next shift in the story.
> 
> First of all, thank you all so much for jumping in and giving me your feedback on the poll. 
> 
> Secondly, It was pretty close, but the majority ruled hurt!Sam/worried!Gabe. I have an idea brewing for our dear moose, but I'm trying to work on fitting it in with the flow of this story.
> 
> Thirdly, if you wanted hurt! Gabe or for them to just be happy, it's coming. Just hang in there; I hear you. This is a long fic, so we still have some ways to go. :)
> 
> Again, thank you all so much! I'll let you know when there is another poll. Your comments do hold weight. I consider them in my writing process!


	20. Tossed About

Friday loomed over Sam's head as he biked to work. His suit was folded neatly in the backpack on his back as he wove his way through busy streets. Horns blared as he beds led by, fumes almost choking him before he made it to the office. Azazel & Novak was situated in a building as proud as the name, windows gleaming in the Californian sun. Palm trees waved their fronds in the warm breeze as Sam hurried to lock his bike and go change in the men's bathroom on the first floor.

"Ah, Sam." He skidded to a stop when he heard his name, wiping his hair out of his face.

"Mr. Azazel, sir!" 

"I need you to do something for me today."

"Double shot of expresso, sir?" Sam's shoulders drooped.

"What? No. You're not at Starbucks anymore." Oh, that's right. Mr. Azazel didn't know who actually went out and got the coffee. "I need you to shadow me today and take notes. My normal secretary is on maternity leave and the replacement isn't good for much other than phones and writing porn when she thinks I'm not looking. You think you're up for the challenge?"

"Yes, sir."

"No hesitation." Azazel leaned back on his heels, studying Sam's face. "I like that." Sam allowed himself a small smile. He hoped, he really hoped that just maybe this job was going to be a good thing. He hoped everything would be better now.

It had to because he still had yet to come face to face with his father. Sam was not looking forward to that. He hadn't seen John since the last meeting with the cops, the one where the Winchester family was told that their son/brother wasn't coming home. Yea, not a moment that Sam wanted to relive. His mom had been the last to break down, but her tears had been the worst to see, the worst to hear. John had already stepped off to take a moment to compose his own self, so Sam had been the one to wrap his arms around his mother's small, shaking form. It was one more time John failed in Sam's eyes.

Back at home, Gabe was still sleeping, limbs wrapped around his pillow, face buried in Sam's pillow.

"You're quick on your feet." Azazel noticed. It was at lunch time and he had been working Sam over whether Sam realized it or not. Sam was keeping up. He was bright, intelligent, funny when he dropped his guard. "We just need to spruce you up." Sam blanched visibly, eyes dropping to the ground. "Oh, hey, no need to be ashamed. We all start somewhere. We all can't have rich daddies." Azazel chuckled. "Or rich mommies, am I right, Luce?" A tall, imposing man looked over at them from his desk through the open door.

"Always the joker, Azazel."

"Sam, this is my partner, Luce Novak. Luce, this is Sam, new guy."

"He's remarkably slow at getting coffee." Luce reached over and picked up his cup, sipping at it.

"You don't even drink coffee." Sam snapped. Normally he'd be too anxious to react like that, but being too anxious was kind of his problem. Sam could feel an attack coming, a big one. He couldn't afford to have an anxiety attack now; he couldn't blow this. He had Gabe to think about now. "Sorry." He smoothed his hair behind his ears. "It's just he drank tea yesterday." Azazel opened his mouth in surprise, glancing over at his partner to gauge his reaction. Luce barked out a shocked laugh before shrugging.

"He's perfect." Azazel clapped his hands together. "I'll leave him with you for my lunch break. Have him ready for my two o'clock appointment."

"Yea, boss." Luce leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up. "Good luck with that client."

Gabriel was up, picking at macaroni and cheese with hot dogs. He really just wanted the hot dogs, all mixed up with that cheesy goodness. Delicious. Gabe licked his dinners clean and set to cleaning up. He tried to keep the apartment clean and looking nice. Sam didn't ask him to do anything, but Gabe still liked to contribute. It kind of reminded him of when it had been just him and Castiel.

Gabe didn't think about Castiel much if he could help it. He missed Cassie the most out of all his family. The stuff they had endured together... Their bond was deep. Castiel had been his main worry when he had been sold, and then he found out he needed to worry about himself. He tapped his fingertips on the counter, a remnant of a song long driven into his memory by days and days of practice. He missed playing, he did. He just didn't miss the memories that playing drudged up.

It was one o'clock and Luce decided that they needed a lunch break too. He took Sam to a nice restaurant across the street, one of those trendy joints that Sam could never afford. Luce got them a table outside, under the palm trees that lined the side of the street. 

"Mr. Novak, I can't afford this, obviously." Sam stuffed his hands into his pants' pockets.

"Company card." Luce patted his suit pocket. "Don't you worry about a thing?"

"Hello, sirs." A waiter smiled down at them as he stood at the table. "Can I start you both with some drinks?"

"Scotch." Luce shifted in his seat, looking over at Sam.

"Just water, please." Sam ducked his head down at the man's patronizing smile.

"Of course. I'll be right back with your drinks."

"So Sam, tell me about yourself." Luce leaned forward, a glint in his crystal blue eyes. "Azazel thinks you're something special, but I'd like to ascertain that for myself."

"I'm, I'm not special." Sam stammered.

"Oh, I doubt that." Luce smirked. Sam was kept from answering with the return of the waiter with their drinks. Sam gulped down about a quarter of his water, glancing up at Luce nervously. "You have any family?"

"My parents."

"They live around here?" Sam nodded, drinking more of his water. "Are you close?"

"With my mom. Mr. Azazel said you were close to your mom?"

"No, he said I had a rich mom." Luce chuckled. "But yea, she is one of the few people who find me bearable."

"You seem all right." Sam blinked. He shook his head ever so slightly as his vision blurred.

"Hey, Sam?" He looked up, Luce was a lot closer, touching his arm. "Sam, are you okay?"

"I—I." Sam's eyelids felt heavy, closing on their own accord. He toppled out of his chair and on to the concrete.

Gabe was getting ready, glancing over at the clock. It was 6:34pm and no sign of Sam. Gabriel made his way back into the room he shared with Sam, perusing the clothes in their shared closet. He didn't have a lot of clothes that were suitable to meet his boyfriend's parents officially as Sam's boyfriend. Sam being nervous about tonight only served to make Gabe nervous too. He grabbed a red tie that Sam never wore and tied it in a sloppy knot. Gabe frowned at himself in the mirror. He looked odd dressed up. He looked almost, kind of free. Eh, it'd have to do.

It was 7:58pm and Gabe was worried. Something must have happened to Sam. He wasn't a late kind of guy, not without getting some kind of word to Gabriel or his parents. His parents. Sam must have contacted Mary. Gabe was fuzzy on the details, but he thought he'd be able to get Mary's without too much trouble, he hoped. Gabe grabbed a bag, just in case, and snagged Sam's pillow. What could he say? He was sentimental.

Gabe trucked it down the stairs and out the back entrance. He walked as fast as he could without attracting too much attention, trying to remember the exact way. He got a little mixed up with an alley or two and ended up with a few unsavory-looking characters on his tail. 

Finally the houses started to look familiar. Gabe was running at this point with a couple men right behind him.

"Mary!" Gabe screamed, booking it as fast as he could. "Mary!" He tripped, catching himself before he could fall, but man closest to his grabbed his arm. "Hey!" Gabe protested being yanked into a strange man's chest who reeked of beer and Cheetos. 

"Where you going with that pretty, little ass? I don't see your master around."

"Let go of me!" Gabe swung his fist at the guy but one of the other men grabbed his hands. Sam's pillow hit the pavement, rolling once before stopping. A man stepped out of one of the houses, sticking his head out to see what was going on. Gabe whimpered as the men began to drag him away. "Stop! Let me go!"

"Hey!" The guy stepped off his porch, pulling out a rifle. "He said stop!" Gabe stopped struggling, partially out of shock. He had met a lot of crappy people in his life. The ones who wanted to help him and actually did, well, he could count those on one hand. A warning shot was fired and Gabe could have cried in relief when the men let go of him. The sound of their feet running away faded as a hand was offered. "You okay? It's a little dangerous to be running the streets without your master." Gabe hesitantly took the man's hand, looking up. The man had a beard and he looked strong. Gabe eyed the gun in his left hand as he let the man pull him up.

"I—uh– I was looking for someone."

"Well, I know just about everyone on the street. Who are you looking for?" The man clicked the gun's safety on. Gabe pulled free of the man's grasp, stepping back. It didn't matter if the guy just saved him, Gabe knew he could never be too careful. He reached up and touched the collar he fastened before leaving Sam's. He had the paper that let him travel without his master, little good it did him. Sam. Fuck. Gabe's stomach flopped.

"Mary Winchester." Gabe scooped up Sam's pillow, hugging it to his chest. 

"What do you want with my wife?" Wife? Oh shit, this was John, this was Sam's dad.

"I–it's Sam." Gabe teared up. "I don't know where he is."

"Wait—what? Sam? How do you know Sam?"

"Gabriel!" Mary ran out of the house. "What are you doing here? Where is Sam?" 

"He was supposed to come home and get me. We were going to come over for dinner."

"And you thought he just bailed again." Mary shot John an accusing look.

"Sam didn't come home. He's usually back at 6, but I waited in case he had to work late. He didn't show up. I didn't know what to do. Sam never leaves without saying something. I was hoping," Gabe sniffled, wiping his nose, "that maybe he had called or texted you?" Mary shook her head.

"We haven't heard anything." She confirmed, a look of sympathy on her face.

"Sam." Gabe whimpered. He had a bad feeling about all of this, a very bad feeling indeed.


	21. I'm a Little Unsteady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want some extra details before Sam and Gabe talk, they're in the last chapter of 'Saving Dean.' XD

John Winchester was studying Gabriel as much as Gabriel was studying him. John waited until Gabe settled in, changing into Sam's undershirt and sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants before he started questioning him. Mary had a late shift at the clinic, so the two men were left on their own. John watched Gabe sit on the couch and squeeze the pillow he had been carrying to his chest. Gabe dipped his head down and inhaled through his nose to catch a whiff of Sam's scent. God, he wished Sam was here, safe, with him. 

John came in from the kitchen, looming over him from the doorway. Gabe paid him no mind for now, unfastening his collar and letting it drop on the coffee table. Gabriel retreated back to the couch and Sam's pillow, burrowing in,

"So how do you know my son?" John asked, though it was pretty clear that wasn't the first question he wanted to ask.

"We live together." And they also did everything but work together. Gabe decided to not overshare though. Thinking about Sam made him anxious. He hoped Sam was okay. He missed him.

"When did you move in?" John was not letting this drop. Gabriel sighed and resolved to answer him as honestly as he could. John seemed like he had a good bullshit detector.

"Late August."

"The only reason I can think of my son owning another person is that he lost his mind."

"I was supposed to be for school." Gabe shrugged. Honestly, looking back on the last semester, he was glad Sam changed his mind. If Sam hadn't decided to keep him, Gabe thought he'd pretty much still be the same as he was then. But Sam had done the unthinkable and given Gabe what he needed most: security.

"Supposed to be?"

"Well now I'm more." Gabe looked up finally, a hint of a defiant glare as he met John's eyes. "He was going to introduce us tonight. I'm his boyfriend." Gabriel didn't know what to expect from John, but he didn't expect him to laugh. 

"Well I'll be." John chuckled, stroking his beard. "Can't say I'm shocked, but I always thought Dean would be the first to bring a guy home." His expression grew sad. "That was before he got Lisa knocked up, of course, and the fire. She was a nice girl. Ben and Colt were good boys."

"I'm sorry." Sam hadn't mentioned having nephews. John seemed more relaxed now, leaning against the wall instead of looming over Gabe.

"It was a while ago. I still miss 'em." John came in and sat down on the couch. "So you and Sam are boyfriends, huh? What do you like about him?"

"You mean beside his big cock?" It was a risky but calculated move. Gabe smiled when John laughed some more, nearly choking when those words came out of Gabe's mouth.

"He gets it from me." John slapped his leg. "But really though. I haven't seen him in a couple years."

"He's sweet, kind, so freaking smart it makes my head hurt sometimes. He's hot as hell, so yea there's that. Everything is proportionate; I enjoy that."

"Are you really talking about his dick again?" Gabe shrugged. "Oh, or are you just testing me?" The crinkles by John's eyes smoothed as he sobered up. "This is a test. You wanna see if I'm going to try anything."

"You're like twice my size."

"And you're our guest and our son's boyfriend." John shook his head. "We wouldn't dream about laying a hand on you in any way."

"Thanks." Gabe relaxed a little, still clutching Sam's pillow. This was not how he planned on this evening going. "How come you haven't seen Sam in years?" It was John's turn to sigh.

"I'm surprised he didn't tell you."

"He doesn't talk about anyone that much, not even Dean."

"He told you about Dean?"

"Just that it's assumed he's a slave."

"Yea. They never found his bones in the fire. They found Lisa, Colt, and Ben's remains, as well as Lisa's parents, but Dean was nowhere to be found." John looked sad. "They thought it wa as revenge thing on Lisa's dad, guess he got mixed up with some asshole named Alistair. The cops questioned him, but he claimed to have no knowledge of what happened. I can't shake my gut feeling though that he's involved. I bet that asshole took Dean; he was real smarmy."

"I've heard of Alistair. He's the best slave trainer but also the worst. He's a cruel man." Gabe shivered. "He owned me once."

"He train you?"

"No." Gabe laughed. "I wasn't good enough for the likes of him. I was just the bait for the slaves he was training. He specializes in pleasure slaves, right? Like really expensive, really good ones who can and will do anything asked of them. I was practice for those guys or the dummy it was first shown to them on." John looked at Gabe a little differently. He was impressed to say the least. Gabe impressed him with how well he seemed to have survived. It gave John a glimmer of hope that perhaps his elder son had done the same.

"I'm impressed." John finally said it out loud after a few minutes of silence. "You're a strong man."

"Nah." Gabe smirked. "I'm just a little too stubborn for my own good."

"I think you'll fit in here with no problem." John laughed. "Stubbornness kind of runs through our family."

"Like Sam holding a grudge against you?" Gabe pried. He was curious! 

"Like Sam holding a grudge against me." John's shoulders sagged. "I deserve it, I mean I thought we made up years ago, but Dean getting taken made everything weird between us again. I wasn't the best dad when Sam was growing up, Gabe. When Sam was about nine, Mary was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was pretty bad at the time, and I thought I was going to lose her. I took to drinking. I'd get so drunk that I wouldn't remember that I beat my own son unconscious the night before." John stared at the floor. "I hurt Sam pretty bad this one time. I remember that much. His head wouldn't stop bleeding; he still has a scar, I think. So yea, I get why he doesn't want anything to do with me."

"Does Mary know?" John shook his head. "I thought the boys would have told her, but they didn't say a word. It was more than I deserved. She turned the corner and I got out of the bottle. Never got my boys back though. Dean raised Sam more than I ever did. Losing Dean wrecked us all, but it hurt Sam the most. I'm glad he has you now."

"Thanks. And thanks for letting me know. That's not the easiest thing to tell a guy on your first date." Gabe winked, shocking a laugh out of John. "I've done my share of shit. If you and Sam are goodish, then we're good. You step to him to get him, I'm gonna get a baseball bat."

"You remind me of Dean in some ways. Like not in everything, but your sense of humor and your protectiveness of Sam. You're funny." John mused. "But understood, sir. Sam is off limits."

"You should talk to him. And Mary." Gabe was going to keep giving advice while John seemed open to it. "Mary misses him too."

"I'll think about it."

John and Gabe got closer over the weekend. John took Gabe to work with him on Saturday and when they got Sam's eviction notice, they packed up the apartment together. Apparently the landlord found out about Gabriel. Go figure, there was a no slave policy. The landlord had seen the video of Gabriel running around with his collar. No more apartment. 

Gabe worried what Sam would think about losing his apartment that he once shared with his brother. But honestly, Gabe mostly worried about if Sam was okay. He meticulous packed up Sam's books, notecards, and laptop. He didn't want to wreck anything. He was done with that. John handed him the next month's check Sam had given the landlord. They just took the money for the current month since they were getting everything moved right away. Gabe thought they just felt bad after John gave them an earful about everything that was going on. Oh well, it worked for Gabe. More money that he and Sam didn't have to worry about. Things were still going to be good. Sam had to be okay. He'd be back soon with a reasonable explanation.

Correction: his boyfriend being kidnapped by his estranged brother was not a reasonable excuse. Gabe believed the cops who gave them Sam's report over the phone. He just couldn't believe the audacity of his family. They fucking kidnapped his Sam—this why he didn't miss them. Their outrageous ability to not see when a behavior is inappropriate. Everything was packed into the car and they drove down to the police station to pick Sam up. It turned out that John had been trying to report Sam as missing the last two days, but the police had told him to wait the 72 hours. But when a disoriented, exhausted Sam Winchester was left at the police station, they knew who to call right away.

Sam looked like shit, but Gabe had never been so happy to see him in his life. He about flew through the station. Sam lit up when he saw Gabe, standing up and pulling his boyfriend into a hard kiss before wrapping his arms around him. Sam gave Gabe a tight hug, so tight that Gabe's ribs protested. Gabe returned the hug, not missing how Sam hissed slightly as he squeezed.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?"

"He should probably go the hospital." The officer taking care of Sam spoke up.

"I'm fine! I just want to go home."

"About that..." Gabe bit his lip. "We're kind of living with your parents right now." Sam looked up and saw John hanging back. His expression darkened.

"Whatever. I just need to sleep and talk to my boyfriend." Sam gave Gabe a weary, pleading look.

"He's injured." The cop spoke up. 

"I was patched up." Sam waved the officer away. 

"I'll grab his stuff." The officer excused himself. "I got everything in a baggie back in evidence."

"What happened?" Gabe whispered as they waited for the guy to come back. Sam was wearing the same outfit he had left in on Friday morning. Sam seemed off. Gabe worried some more. He hoped Sam was okay. He seemed to be in some kind of pain.

"I missed you." Sam gave him another squeeze. "We'll talk, just not here." He shot John another look. They moved back to the row of chairs Sam had been sitting on when they first came in. They sat down, neither moving away from the other. Sam's arm stayed right around Gabe, Gabe's hand clutching just above Sam's knee. Gabe leaned against his boyfriend, trying to ground them both. They were back together. They were back where they belonged.

"He comes in peace." Gabe said in a hushed voice as they watched John lean against the counter and talk to the guy who retrieved Sam's belongings.

"Gabe..."

"He told me."

"He did? Even the bit about not taking me to the ER even though I was unconscious and bleeding?"

"Sam..." Gabe leaned in closer. "He told me all of it. And he did take you, just not as soon as he should have." Sam frowned but didn't fight. He was exhausted. He felt fragile. "I'm on your side, baby." Gabe whispered. "Just he's been giving me work and everything." Everything caught up to him and Gabe turned his face so it was pressed against Sam's chest. He choked back his sob of relief and worry all mingled together, but Sam heard it. A gentle hand pressed through his hair before holding him closed. "I was so scared."

"I'm here, babe. I'm here." Sam's lips were reassuring against Gabe's forehead.

"You two ready?"

"Yea." Sam got up, taking Gabe's hand in his own. "Uh, thanks for taking him in."

"He's family now." John shrugged. "Happy to have him. Happy to have you both."

"Thanks." Sam said tentatively. John gave him a wide berth as they went back to the car. "Is that my stuff?"

"Finished packing today." John grunted. "Hey, I'm glad you're okay."

"Yea." The car ride was silent as Gabe tried to hold back all his questions until it was just him and Sam. He was so glad Sam was back and that Sam was okay.


	22. You Don't Know, You Don't Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked for hurt!Sam, you got him. XD

The car ride was fairly awkward. Gabe tried to make small talk, but Sam refused to talk and John would grunt now and then. It didn't seem like Sam to hold such an intense grudge, so Gabe's mind spiraled down into all of the worst things that could have happened to Sam. The worst two were Sam being sold or killed, thank God those didn't happen. Gabe didn't think he could handle losing Sam.

"What are we doing here?" Sam sounded a little shrill, making Gabe's head snap up and take in their surroundings. John had driven them to the hospital.

"I learned my lesson." John shrugged, but Gabe could see the small twinkle for being a self-righteous asshole in this moment. "You're hurt, so I'm bringing you to the hospital."

"Like twenty years too late." Sam shot back, but he seemed to be struggling to compose himself more than anything. Gabe looked to John for an explanation; Sam had seemed well-enough back at the police station.

"They told me that they advised you to do a rape kit, Sam." John looked up in the rearview mirror. "So that's what we're doing." Gabe whirled around in his seat and Sam shrank back in his seat, unable to meet Gabe's eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Gabe hated the pleading tone in his own voice, but fuck, Sam, that's the kind of shit to tell a boyfriend who has had plenty of experience. Gabriel kind of got how Sam must have felt when he was taken: helpless and angry at whoever had done this awful thing.

"I was going to." Sam rubbed his arm, feeling like his head was going to explode. Funny how he didn't have a single anxiety attack until he was back with the person he had missed most. He just felt so dirty and ashamed. He didn't want Gabe to know. He truly had been planning on telling him, in private, after he scrubbed all his skin off... He hated that police officer for telling his father— his fucking father of all people. Now he and John had talked things out a while ago, but when Dean had been taken... It had just been too much to hear John be all worried and caring. He should have done that when mom was in the hospital instead of being a drunk asshole. "I—I didn't know where to start." Gabe hummed a noise of understanding.

"I get it." Sam almost hated him for totally getting it. It almost made it worst that Gabe knew exactly how it felt. Sam's head jerked up as Gabriel crawled over the seat and into his lap. "It doesn't change a damn thing." Gabe cupped Sam's face in his hands. "Are you okay?" Sam shook his head ever so slightly, eyes tearing up. "Aw, baby, I'm so sorry." Gabe just kind of held Sam for a moment. "We gotta go in and let them check on you, okay?"

"I don't want to." Sam whispered.

"I know, but you gotta."

"I already signed an agreement that I wouldn't press charges."

"Why the hell would you do that?"

"The company is paying me a quarter of a million dollars to not press charges."

"Fuck the company! Wait, the company you work for? Shit, Sam, was it your boss who took you?"

"One of them, a Luce Novak. The other one is the one who's paying for me, Mr. Azazel. He doesn't want to lose me just because Luce is a jerk." Sam choked up, leaving no doubt in Gabe's mind who touched his boyfriend. 

"I'm going to kill him."

"Gabe."

"No, I'm going to kill him. He knows better than that." Gabe was about ready to cut clear across whatever distance lay between him and Lucifer to beat his brother's ass. No one messed with Sam but Gabriel, and even then...

"He said he was your brother." That didn't help.

"Half-brother." Gabe sniffed.

"What?"

"Oh, he doesn't know, but yea, there was some, uh, mixed parentage in our family. I'm getting off-track though. Let's go in and get this over with, then we can go home and cuddle."

"You're lucky you're cute." Sam grumbled as Gabe opened the door, climbed out, and offered his hand. Sam got out, shifting his back slightly. "Well, I might as well just tell you now, but I met your whole family. I had a really awful dinner with them and then your youngest brother with yet another weird name, I think it was, decided to beat me up for 'keeping you away from him.'"

"What the fuck?! Castiel?!" Gabe glanced up at Sam who nodded. "That's why you tense up around your back. That little fucker! Just he wait..."

"He had Dean."

"Wait—your brother Dean?" 

"Yea, they were like together or something. I guess Castiel stole him from Michael, bought him from Lucifer, and then freed him after some cousin was fucking him when Castiel was in rehab."

"Oh my god, my family." Gabe groaned. "I am so sorry."

"I had a good talk with Castiel after the fact." Sam offered, not all surprised when Gabe just shook his head. "He has been through a lot. He did apologize and try to stitch me up. Dean ended up taking over." Sam smiled at that. "It was almost like old times." He nodded in the direction of the car where John had decided to wait for them. Sam almost felt bad for how he was treating his dad. Almost. He'd talk to John after he got some sleep and some quality time with Gabriel. He needed those reassurances that Gabe made sure to give. He truly did get what Sam was going through, but was using his knowledge to ease the way the best he could for Sam.

"Nope, he doesn't get redemption that easy. That little fucker. I'm going to beat some sense into him."

"Oh, well, at least you're not going to kill that one." Sam joked. Gabriel didn't like being reminded that both his brothers had touched Sam against his will. He didn't plan on forgiving either of them. Sam was his boyfriend, his rescuer, his lover, his best friend. Gabe would be damned if he let anyone fuck with Sam and not pay.

"Yea, yea." Gabe waved it off. He needed to compose himself because Sam was getting paler with every step they took into the hospital. They got Sam checked in and into a room right away. Apparently they didn't fuck around with this kind of thing. Gabriel thought that it must be nice to not be a slave. Sam would free him though. Gabe had no doubts about that.

Sam hated the rape kit, but he sullenly went through the humiliating ordeal. He was a big guy. He knew that. He saw the looks the nurses gave each other when they thought he wasn't looking. They 1) liked what they saw and 2) were in disbelief that he of all people was getting the rape kit. Someone had even double checked to make sure that it was Sam not Gabriel getting the kit done. Sam had to smile with the way Gabriel's chin jutted out defiantly at that assumption. He was nothing but the loving, doting boyfriend. And fuck, he was protective. Gabe bristled when he saw Sam's back and just about reamed out the nurse for Sam hissing in pain when she changed the bandages. Yea, nobody messed with Gabe, especially when it came to Sam.

Gabe remembered when he had been this protective about his family and then Ellen, Jo, and Cassie. He did hope they were well, but holy hell, Castiel did not need to go this far. Sam would have some of these scars for some time, maybe all his life. But what Castiel had done paled in comparison to what Lucifer had done. "Have I mentioned I'm going to kill Luce?" Gabe spoke up as Sam dressed. 

"For drugging me?" Sam only put his undershirt on, tossing his suit jacket and dress shirt into the bag the nurse had provided,

"No, well, yes." Gabe had to think about that one for moment. "That and for putting his hands on you."

"Gabe..."

"I'm going make it nice and slow."

"Gabe, Lucifer didn't rape me. He flirted with me and made me super uncomfortable at times, but he didn't touch me."

"But–but who then?" Gabe stammered, his mind racing through the family members that were left. He hoped and he prayed that one name would not cross Sam's lips, but then it did. Gabe almost heard his world come crashing down around him as he remembered Michael's hot whisper against his face.

"I will take everything from you, little brother, and it will all be mine."

"His name was Michael." Everything went fuzzy then white. Gabe kind of spaced out, retreating far within himself as he was confronted with the existence of the person he pretended most was imaginary. Michael had been the reason he ran away. Michael had been the reason he took Castiel with him. Michael had been—. Gabe started to see red creep in the edges of white. Michael touched Sam.

Sam was his. Sam was his. Sam was his. Sam was his. Sam was his. Sam was hi—. "Gabe!" Gabriel jumped. They were out in the parking lot, Sam gripping his hand tightly. "You okay? You kind of spaced on me."

"Michael is a douchebag." Gabe muttered.

"Yea, I got that."

"I don't get why your boss is paying you to stay quiet."

"It looks bad if I'm pressing charges against the partner's famous brother or something."

"You're gonna quit right?"

"Well, I'm getting two weeks paid vacation right now."

"Sam..."

"I just got this job! It's a big deal, and it's not like Michael's there. Luce is usually in LA."

"Your funeral." Gabe sniffed. 

"Don't be like that." Sam nudged him. "Hey, you want to stay at a motel tonight?"

"Is this because of your dad?"

"Kind of."

"Sam...

"I don't want him to hear us make love."

"You did not just say 'make love.'"

"I'll say it again if you don't give me an answer."

"Fuck." Gabe pondered what to say. On one hand, he wanted to snuggle Sam up in blankets so nothing bad could ever happen to him. Buuuuut, on the other hand, making sure Sam was all his and taking care of him that way was also appealing. Fuck. "What did you have in mind?" He managed to make the question sound sexy instead of worried. God. Was this what Sam had to deal with when Gabe was trying to get him to fuck him all those times? Gabe would apologize for that one of these days.

"I want you to fuck me." Sam said bluntly.

"Don't hold back, tiger."

"I just—." Sam hung his head. "I just need you, all right?" Gabe could tell Sam was bracing himself for rejection. That never felt good. Gabe knew that. This was different though. Sam didn't initiate sex all that often, still. He wasn't a former sex slave looking to secure a place with a master. He was a boyfriend who needed the reassurance and love from his boyfriend.

"Okay."

"What?" Sam's head snapped back up.

"Whatever you need, I'm down." The gratitude in Sam's eyes made Gabriel hope with all his heart that he made the right choice. 

"Thank you."


	23. It Was Fascination Turned to Love

The hotel (because Gabriel insisted on paying for a hotel instead of a motel so he could pamper Sam a little it) was nice. Spacious even compared to the their previous living space. Gabriel threw the backpack he had packed from all their belongings from the car on to the couch.

"I think that bed is big enough to fit all of you, Sam." He remarked. "Your feet won't have to hang off." He turned to Sam with a smile, but Sam was spaced out, staring through the king-sized bed. "You all right over there, kiddo?"

"No." Sam mumbled. "Gonna take a shower." He shed the dirty suit jacket on the floor, leaving a trail of clothes to the bathroom. Gabriel ran a hand over his face. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to make this all better. His clean freak of a boyfriend was leaving dirty laundry all over the place, Sam, of all people. Gabe scooped the clothes up and piled them in the corner of the hotel room. Pocketing one of the hotel room keys, he scribbled Sam a note and handed downstairs.

Now, a slave running around without a collar was a criminal offense, especially a slave who was all out of chances to contribute to society, but Gabe wasn't going to get caught. He'd been adjusting to this odd sense of being free even though he belonged to Sam in paper. Sam had saved him a long time ago; his legitimate freedom would just be the official red tape.

Gabe was back before Sam finished his shower, quickly setting out everything he has picked up before tip-toeing to the door and knocking. "You almost done in there, babe?" He called. He wanted to give Sam some privacy, but he also knew better than to leave Sam alone with himself for too long. The last thing Gabe wanted was for Sam to bottle everything up. He wouldn't pry, but he wouldn't sweep it all under the rug either. "Sam?" He tested the knob; it wasn't locked. Gabe hemmed and hawed outside the door, unsure if he should breach the bathroom or not.

"Don't worry." Sam growled as he yanked the door open. "You're getting lucky tonight." Gabe stepped back. Sam was only wearing a low-sling towel wrapped around his waist. Normally Gabe would be appreciating the hell out of that view, but the dark bags under Sam's arm and the bruises and gouges cutting across his skin kind of made the moment a lot more serious. Gabe didn't even want to get started on how Sam was acting. As a sex slave refurbished into a boyfriend, Sam's behavior was waving big, giant, red flags. Sam was text-book first time sex slave and he was free. Gabe just wanted to hug him and not let go until Sam felt better. Too bad it wasn't that easy.

"Sam, sex is not really my biggest concern right now." He tried to start softly.

"And what is that? That you had to share me with your dick brother?" 

"Whoa, no fucking way, princess!" Gabe snapped, almost instantly feeling bad for reacting so strongly. Sam was raw. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, baby." Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm so sorry that all this happened to you. You didn't deserve to get dragged into my family drama and you especially didn't deserve what—what Michael did."

"He raped me!" The silence was deafening as Sam took in a ragged breath. He glanced over at Gabe, apprehension evident on his haggard features.

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, baby." Gabe teared up. Sam looked at him instead of glaring off at the wall. Gabe looked down as he tried to reign in his own rampaging emotions. He felt so fucking helpless! Being able to relate wasn't helping either of them through this process. Sam opened his mouth, shut it, made a face, and then tried again.

"You don't want to touch me." Gabe didn't want him to get set off by his touch.

"That's not true."

"But you're not going to have sex with me." Bingo.

"Not tonight, baby boy." Sam's shaking fingers balled up into fists, squeezing until he released, fingers hanging down against the terry cloth before trying again.

"You got us this hotel room so we could have sex. I'm not going to let you just waste your money." This time he dropped his towel and spread out on the bed. He did his best to hide his discomfort, but Gabe could read the rigidness of his spine, the white knuckles of his fingers, the stubborn set of his jaw.

"No, I got this hotel room to take care of you." Gabe sat on the bed, tracing the design on the comforter. "You needed time away from your family. Time to process, think, and to slowly start the healing process." Sam's upper lip curled up, but Gabe wasn't all that daunted. "You don't have to be strong for me right now, okay? You've been taking care of me since you bought me. It's my turn to take care of you for once."

Sam was quiet, but he did shift on the bed, curling up into the fetal position. The silence wasn't so sudden or alarming this time as they breathed together.

In and out. 

In and out.

In and out.

Gabe flopped backwards, turning so that they were facing each other. Sam didn't look away this time, studying Gabe's face like he had never seen it before. Gabe wasn't bothered by the scrutiny. He was glad to see Sam engaging in the world around him.

"Did you know you have dimples?"

"What?" Gabe didn't follow. Sure, he gained a little weight in the past semester, but not enough for that.

"You have dimples." Sam lifted his head, pressing the pad of his finger where Gabe's skin dipped in when he smiled. "Here." He moved his hand underneath Gabe's cheek. "And here. I can't believe I just realized that tonight." Sam locked eyes with Gabriel again, looking for something. Gabriel just didn't know what he was looking for. He hoped Sam could find whatever it was with him.

"I love you." Gabe reached up and brushed his hand over Sam's wrist and the hand still cradling the side of his face. Sam closed his eyes and exhaled a steady, silent breath.

"I don't know what to do." Sam whispered. "I don't want to have sex tonight. I know I offered and I pushed, but I can't!" He looked to Gabe, a wild hope in his eyes that Gabe would be understanding.

"Put some clothes on and come back to bed." Gabe counseled, making sure to stay still as Sam withdrew, sitting up, still in his full, naked glory.

"I don't want to move." Sam scooted up on the bed, pulling down the covers before curled up even more. Poor baby was in pain and still didn't want to show it. Gabe grunted, sliding off the bed and walking over to the bag still on the chair. He grabbed Sam boxers, a t-shirt, and sweatpants. 

"Don't get up." Gabe cautioned, taking time to dress Sam. Sam didn't complain as Gabe pulled the boxers and then the sweatpants up. The shirt was more tricky, but Sam helped him out the best he could. Gabe wrapped him up in blankets and pillows, disregarding the protest that there wouldn't be any left for Gabe. 

Gabe climbed back on to the bed after he shut all the lights off except for just one. The food he had grabbed was tucked into the mini fridge. He wriggled out of his clothes until he was just in his t-shirt and boxers. He stayed far off on his own side of the bed, switching the tv on so to give Sam his space and privacy. Sam drifted for a while, not sleeping but not completely awake.

"I get what you're doing." Sam rumbled after an hour. "I 'preciate it, but I still need you." Gabe looked over. 

"What do you need me to do?"

"Hold me?" Sam's voice cracked at the end, going high like he expected Gabe to say no.

"Course, baby." Gabe slid under the covers, twisting past the pillow fort he had made. Sam was drowsy, his eyes barely open, but he was focused when Gabriel came closer. He lifted his head up and snuggled on top of Gabe's chest, closing his eyes with a contented sigh. "Want me play with your hair?"

"Mm." Which was a yes because Sam was a sucker for Gabe playing with his hair even after the most traumatic event of his life to date. "Love 'ou, Gabe." He murmured, drifting once more as Gabe's fingers weaved in and out of his hair. Soon they were both asleep, the light from the tv casting flickering shadows over their peaceful faces.

"Morning." Gabe yawned, fingers easily carding through Sam's soft, thick hair.

"Can I ask you something?" Sam had woken up first, but was loathe to move from his secure spot snuggled along the line of Gabe's body, head still resting on Gabe's chest.

"Yea." Gabe ran his fingers against Sam's scalp, eliciting a small moan from the man half on top of him.

"How'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Get over what happened to you, being r-raped and shit."

"I learned to cope. I don't know if I ever learned to get over it though."

"You're doing all right with me." Sam faltered. "Does the gross feeling ever go away? Will I ever stop feeling wrong?"

"Yes."

"How'd you stop feeling that?" Sam kept pushing, but Gabe hesitated. Sam was asking him some real shit; Sam was asking Gabe stuff he never talked about.

"When I start feeling dirty or unworthy, I remind myself that I can't be that bad or else I wouldn't have you." Gabe confessed softly. "You're so good and smart and I've just been a dirty, used up sex slave. You don't see me like that. You just see me. And if you like what you see, well, maybe I'm not as used up and dirty as I sometimes feel." Gabe gave Sam a tentative, soft smile. "You're changing me." Sam sucked in a breath, looking at Gabe for a moment like he was holy. 

"I want to kiss you." Gabe chuckled slightly, scooting down to press their mouths together. Lips met, and Sam deepened the kiss quickly. Gabe gave up control, letting Sam's tongue roam his mouth, swiping his tongue against Sam's. They separated for air, heads hanging close, Gabe's hand still entangled in Sam's hair.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sam." Gabe promised. "Michael can't take you away from me. He doesn't get a say about us." Sam kissed Gabriel again, though more to shut him up. Sam didn't want to talk about Michael. He just wanted to stay in that safe cocoon that Gabe had made him forever. Facing the world was suddenly a whole lot more daunting now that he knew just how vulnerable he was. Gabe snuggled back against him, an eager pillow as Sam pulled the covers back up high. If Sam didn't want to face the world yet, well, Gabe would give him another day away.

"How long does it take to feel better?" Sam asked after a few more minutes of silence. He liked that Gabe didn't hesitate to kiss him, but he sure didn't know how to handle more than a few kisses. How Gabe was ever able to trust him to let him... Sam couldn't even think about it. His stomach was tied up in knots.

"A while." Gabe was honest. "You just have to be patient with yourself."

"So I'm just going to end up being a sucky boyfriend."

"I don't think that's possible." Gabe tried to feign nonchalance, but Sam worried him with just how down he was. Gabe started to think Sam needed to see someone professional.

"Gabe, the idea of sex—"

"Makes you sick? Yea, I get it, Sam, trust me. I can wait. Sex is not what makes us, us."

"We started out through sex." Sam shot a baleful look over the covers.

"Sam, no sex isn't a deal breaker for me. I get it. You're the only person who I can stomach having sex with and that took a couple months and pretty much a miracle."

"I still feel shitty about this."

"Well stop. If I'm good with it, why feel shitty?" 

"Just feel selfish."

"Says the least selfish person I know."

"You should get out more."

"Oh, get off it, princess." Gabe laughed and Sam managed a wry smile. Sam would take the extra day with Gabe. Who knew what they might face next.


	24. Someone Like Me

Sam slept most of the morning. And when he woke up, he was still feeling pretty down. Gabe got the food out and reheated it, putting it in front of Sam. Sam picked at his food while Gabe wolfed his down. 

"Did you know what today is?"

"I have a feeling you'll tell me." Sam was grumbling like a small thunderstorm ever since he woke up.

"Grumpy pants, it's Christmas Eve!" Gabriel said with all the exuberance of a small child.

"Shit, I haven't gone shopping for you yet." Sam swore, pushing himself him up. "I wanna go get you a present."

"Settle down." Gabe laughed. "We'll finish eating and then we can go shopping."

"I'm done." Gabe eyed the barely touched burger and fries resting on the bed. 

"Okay..." Gabe swiped a couple fries before scooting up too. "Let's pack up and go, eager beaver."

"What? You already got my present?" Gabe preened at the slight teasing. 

"No, but you're going to love it. I just need you to sign a paper for me, so I can buy it." Gabe waggled his eyebrows, thoroughly enjoying being mysterious. 

"I'll sign it if you promise I'm not giving you permission to sleep around."

"I'm wounded." Gabe placed a hand over his heart dramatically. Sam grabbed a change of clothes and ducked into the bathroom, suddenly much more modest than Gabe was used to. Whatever it took for Sam to feel comfortable. Gabe threw out the take-out bag and leftover food, packing up his dirty clothes and throwing on clean ones. He took the clothes Sam handed off to him, packing them up too while Sam pulled his dress shoes on. Gabe had forgotten to grab him his sneakers or his boots. 

"Ready?" Sam hung over by the door as Gabe gave the room a once-over. It was weird being the one in charge. Sam was usually the one in control unless they were in the bedroom. But they didn't have to worry about the bedroom for what sounded like a while.

"Yea." Gabe grabbed the bag.

"I got it." Sam pulled it from Gabe's fingers.

"Thanks." Sam glanced down, giving Gabe a tense smile. Their fingers found each other's tangling together and staying entwined. Gabe felt warm inside. Sam still liked him, hell, Sam still loved him. Sure, Sam had said so last night, but Gabe was an insecure guy still. He needed those little shows of affection more than he dared to show. He strutted right next to Sam, a big smile on his face, even after that stupid collar clicked around his neck. Sam was the only master he'd strut for.

The mall was interesting. Gabe got Sam to sign off on the paperwork before they went their separate ways. The best presents were surprises. Sam was a little wary of what Gabe was so excited to by him. There was just that gleam in his golden eyes that warned Sam that his present might be on the mischievous side. So Sam watched to see where Gabriel went, his curiosity heightened when Gabe stepped into a sporting goods store. If Gabe bought a bat... Sam shook his head. He'd let Gabe get his surprise. Now he had to figure out what was perfect to get his boyfriend. It was just their first, celebrated holiday together, no pressure. He should probably pick something up for his parents too. Heading off to find an ATM, Sam walked off into the maze of a mall, not seeing Gabe leave the sporting good store with an empty bag. 

Gabe spotted his adorable giant puppy of a boyfriend heading off and dashed over to the store he had been gunning for since they arrived. He didn't want Sam to know, and the bag would have been a dead giveaway. Oh, Sam was going to be very surprised indeed as Gabe ducked into the lingerie store. It was a good way to have some fun without any pressure to have sex. Gabe couldn't wait to see Sam's eyes bug out of his ridiculously way-too-pretty face.

"May I help you?" The saleswoman walked over, all pulled together and professional in her all-black outfit. "Did your master send you on an errand?"

"Yes, ma'am." Gabriel kept his eyes downcast as he handed her the list that his master had supposedly written.

"And are these for a significant other, your master, another slave, or you?" Gabe suppressed his grin. 

"For me, ma'am, except for one." Gabe handed over a paper with his measurements and Sam's. Gabe never played fair and he never would. "My measurements are on the top."

"We're having a special that if you buy so many pieces, you get a free collar. I'm sure your master will trust your judgment, unless you'd rather I make a selection for you?"

"Surprise me." Gabe batted his eyelashes, flirting just a little like a good sex slave was supposed to. It was kind of fun to play the part: it gave him an idea for later. They might need to book a hotel again sooner than later. The sales lady giggled. Gabe was good—what could he say?

"Your eyes are gorgeous, I know some lovely pieces that would accent those perfectly. Would your master be interested in you wearing cosmetics?"

"I'll defer to your expertise." Another charming smile. Being a slave hadn't always been bad. Gabe had some good times when he chose to behave. He preferred his Cinderella story with Sam though. He preferred his freedom. Gabe followed the sales lady as she grabbed lots of pace and silk and satin for him to try on. 

"Pick out some panties." She nodded to the table spread out. "You'll know what your master likes you in." Gabe nodded, already engrossed in the selection. He snatched up several different styles and fabrics before following the sales lady to the dressing room. Perk of being a slave, she didn't leave, standing there as Gabe stripped and stared trying stuff on. "Oh, I love those." She commented as Gabe pulled on a pair of red, lace panties. Gabe scrutinized himself in the mirror. He had gained some weight. He like how the panties hugged his hips and ass, showing off his body in all the right places. His dick looked good too, but that went without saying. The salesperson agreed in more words or less. He got a lot of those as well as a few other fancy pieces of lingerie. The sales lady picked out a golden collar, putting that in the bag as well as Gabe paid for his purchases, pretending to buy for Sam when it was his own money from John. "Do you like it?" She asked after handing the bag over. Gabe shoved it in the decoy bag before giving her a puzzled look. "Being a slave?" Gabe snorted, coughing quickly to cover up his slip. What a stupid question.

"I like this master." He lifted up one of his shoulders. "So yea, I guess." 

"Pity you weren't free." She pouted. "You're pretty cute for a slave."

"Excuse me?!" Gabe wasn't even acting as he slumped his shoulders and backed away from the counter at the hard tone in Sam's voice. "Is this what you've been doing, slave?!" Wrong place, wrong time, but Gabe's cock was paying attention to what Sam was saying and how Sam was saying it. Gabe's cock liked Sam playing possessive master big time. It wasn't a secret how much Gabe craved any attention from Sam. Sam just gave him so much positive attention that Gabe felt guilt being bad, especially with everything that had just happened. "Slave, are you flirting instead of shopping?" Sam's big hand rested on the back of Gabe's neck, fingers threatening to seize his collar. The sales lady didn't know where to look, first as Sam then Gabriel, back to Sam.

"Sorry, Master." Gabe's head drooped down.

"I'm so sorry, sir." The sales lady gushed, her eyes huge as she stared up at Sam. Sam had an effect on most people that he seemed mostly oblivious to. Just about everyone found him attractive. Gabe's fists curled up at the thought of even his older brothers finding Sam attractive. Sam was his. He hid his glare as Sam grabbed his elbow and yanked him out of the store. Gabe stumbled over his own to feet, trusting Sam to not drop him as he tried to hang on to the bag. 

"You're supposed to tell them to have a good day." Gabe said glibly after righting himself.

"What the hell, Gabe?" Sam growled. "You trying to replace me already? You want someone all shiny and clean?" He let go of Gabe who almost did fall over then, tottering as he tried to find his balance before chasing after Sam who hasn't stopped to wait for him.

"First of all, that girl had a filthy mind, I could just tell. Secondly, hell no." Gabe straightened himself as they left the mall. "Get over yourself. That's how sex slaves act in public."

"You're not a sex slave anymore." 

"I'm just yours?" Sam glanced over his shoulder, finally making eye contact."

"Yea."

"I'm fine with that." Sam finally slowed down so Gabe could walk. They settled into the bus stop, waiting for the next bus. 

"Really?" Gabe placed his hand over Sam's knee.

"Really. I wouldn't still be here if I wasn't."

"What happens after I free you?"

"I get to take you on a real date." Sam laughed at that, wiping his eyes quickly as the bus pulled up. He wouldn't tell Gabe this, Gabe would get mad and then sad, but Sam took his work's offer to stay quiet so he'd finally have the money to free Gabe and pay off some student loans. It had been mostly Gabe though. Sam wanted to do everything in his power to make sure that Gabe truly was happy.

"Let's go home, well, back to my parents." Gabe smiled up at him as they got on the bus. He swallowed hard after they sat down when Sam whispered in his ear. "Don't think I missed how tight your jeans got when I walked in and got all master-y on you." Sam's hand skimmed over Gabe's crotch and he gasped. "Insatiable, little slave." Sam murmured, enjoying testing whatever hypothesis he had formed. "Let's see how long you can hold out."

"Yes, sir." Gabe nodded eagerly

"Stanford." Sam paused. "That's my safe word."

"Brother is mine." Gabe leaned over into Sam just a little, needing his touch to steel himself. He was half-turned on and half-sad by the memories his safe word dredged up. "You're not mad anymore, are you?"

"No, Gabe. I couldn't stay mad in the store with how much you were ready to cum right in your pants." Sam was teasing him. Gabe could tell by that dancing twinkle in his eyes.

"Hey!" Gabe shoved him lightly. "It's not my fault you don't know how sexy you are."

"It's true. You don't tell me enough." Sam laughed, those fucking dimples flashing. 

"You're the sexiest sexy that ever sexed." Gabe wanted to kiss Sam but they were in public. He squeezed his knee instead. They bantered all the way back to John and Mary's, teasing and laughing until their sides ached.


End file.
